


After You're Gone

by lordofthepotatoes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Asthma, Car Accidents, Depression, Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Grief/Mourning, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Conditions, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Sick Dean Winchester, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1802932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordofthepotatoes/pseuds/lordofthepotatoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a traumatic childhood experience Dean is left to battle his ongoing struggle with panic induced asthma. It's 1972 and now he's faced with even greater problems. But, maybe a certain blue eyed man can cause for a bit of a distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey anyone that stumbles across this! So, this is my first attempt at a fan fic. We'll see how it goes! I hope it'll be a interesting enough read because I did put a good lot of work and thought into it! It's based on a lot of my own personal experiences, especially where the asthma and breathing difficulties are concerned. But, enjoy it! It should kick off properly in chapter two! :) thanks for reading!

June 1972

“Mr Winchester?” 

His own name came as a bit of a surprise when he looked up from his paper. “Uh, yeah.” Dean cleared his throat. He set the newspaper on the chair next to him and made for the door.

“Good to see you again.” Dean wished he could say the same. 

Doctor Brown’s office was a small, warm little room with pulled shades and an array of plants littering the shelves and any space where the sun rays hit the floor. It was a bit outdated looking. The dark wooden panels ran from the walls up to the ceiling; the swelling wood made him feel like he was surrounded by closing walls. Though, he thanked whoever was up there for the rattle of the ceiling fan that was dusting a layer of cold air over him. 

His knee bounced on the ground as he glanced around. He’d been there a couple of times over the last few months, but there was always something he could settle his sights on for a few moments while the Doctor took his seat and flicked through a couple of pages. Today it was a particularly large fern plant that looked like it was going to break out of its too small clay pot at any given second. 

“Here we go,” Doctor Brown said eventually, drawing Dean’s attention back. “Your results.”

“Lay it on me, Doc.” Dean huffed a laugh, knee still bouncing, room still stifling. 

“I’m afraid my presumptions were correct, Mr Winchester,” He took off his round spectacles, leaning on his arms as he pulled himself closer into the desk. “You’ve been placed on the waiting list.” 

Dean’s mouth was still curled upwards but his eyes fell between his legs to the floor. He cleared his throat again before going to speak, but Doctor Brown beat him to it. “Dean, it’s really nothing to worry about. A lot of young men your age have heart complaints. Some worse than you.” 

“Yeah, but…I thought I was supposed to grow out of all this shi-uh, crap.” He put a hand on his knee as if to will it to stop bouncing. 

“I’m afraid growing out of heart trouble is unheard off. You’re confusing yourself with your asthma complaint-”

“Right.” Dean interjected. The very word made his chest tighten, thus making him cough as if on queue. He cleared his throat again and sat up straight while Doctor Brown seemed to be preparing himself to go into his spiel about pacemakers and irregular heart beats and how everything would be fine and he could get back on track with his life and with continued support and medication he could eventually grow out of that asthma as well. Bullshit.

He was twenty five. If he was going to grow out of it, he would have done so by now, right? Dean couldn’t help the sigh that came out of his mouth and honestly, he didn’t care if Doctor Brown had noticed. The last thing he needed right now was some god damn heart problem to go hand in hand with all the other shit. 

“…So, for the next few months I’d advise staying with a family member or friend in case of any mishaps.” The Doctor eyed Dean. He nodded, chewing the inside of his lip. “I would also advise taking it easy. No physical activity.”

“Got it.” Dean forced a smile. “When can I come in and get this over with?” 

“Well, you’re not in dire need at the moment, so I’d say anytime within the next three months.” 

“I’ll look forward to it.” Dean stood to leave. Doctor Brown got to his feet as well and crossed the room to stand next to him. 

“Really, Dean, this isn't a bad thing.” He tried, holding his papers against his round stomach. “I know it was all very sudden for you but…This is just a bump. You’re a strong young man, you’ll be over it in a heart beat.”

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” Dean raised an eyebrow, though there was no real heat in his words. He actually liked Doctor Brown. Though, the small man laughed and shook his head, patting Dean’s arm fondly. 

“You know what I mean. Now, go on. Take care of yourself, and I’ll see you in a few months for your pre-op…Tell Bobby I was asking for him.” 

“Alright, thanks Doc. I will.” 

Dean let out a long breath when the door clicked shut behind him. As much as he wanted to remain indifferent about his whole irregular heart beat deal, (which he had intended on doing until Bobby had trailed him to Doctor Brown himself those months ago), now it was starting to hit him how serious all this was. But, what was the point in worrying? It was going to be rectified soon enough. Then he could go back to coughing his lungs up without almost passing out. 

His hand curled around his inhaler in his jeans pocket as he made for the elevator, humming Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’, pushing the button more times than necessary. Right now, he just wanted out of there. He wanted to go home and lie on the couch and have a beer and watch shitty day time television. 

The doors opened with a soft ding and Dean went to go forward, brushing shoulders with a frantic looking man with a bunch of flowers. He was about to ignore it, and get back to his original thought pattern as he stepped in, until the man spoke. He spun around to push his thickly framed glasses, that looked fresh out of 1965, up the bridge of his nose. 

“E-excuse me, could you tell me where the maternity ward is?” Dean chuckled, putting a foot between the elevator doors so they wouldn't shut. 

“Yeah man, down there to the left. Keep going for a while, it’s like Ward E or something.” 

“Thank you!” He said a little breathlessly, lopsided smile plastered on his face, and took off running. Dean wished he could still run like that but he was almost three hundred percent certain that if he so much as tried that now, it would result in having to lie down for the rest of the day. 

Though, that wasn't the first frenetic looking new father he’d ever seen running out of those elevator doors, but he couldn’t help watching this one leave, soft smile spreading on his lips before he shook his head and let the elevator doors shut. He let the man with the bright blue eyes and wild looking dark hair slip from his thoughts. Hospital elevators were no place to pick up guys or girls – especially by someone who couldn’t walk the length of himself. 

Plus, y’know, the fact that he was a married man (probably) with child. 

Dean drove home in no more than twenty minutes, back in another elevator to travel up to his apartment; the one that wouldn’t be his for the next couple of months. He struggled with the lock for a full minute and a half before he pushed the door open, getting blasted by an intense wind of warmth. He went to the windows at once and threw them open, already undoing the buttons of his shirt. He picked up the phone, carrying it into his room on the long cord. 

“Singer’s Auto Repairs.” 

“Hey, it’s me.” Dean said, coughing a bit. “Back from the hospital. Put me on some damn waiting list-”

“Yeah, well, y’know God forbid someone would actually try to help you.” Bobby said. Dean could just see him quirk that snarky smile. “You speakin’ to Harry?”

“Yeah, who else? Though, uh-” His breath caught on his words and sent him into a coughing frenzy. He held the phone away so not to deafen Bobby, waiting for it to pass. Thankfully, it did not long after. “Sorry,” He spluttered, clearing his throat again while Bobby waited patiently. “Yeah, how do you feel about having a house mate for a couple of months?” 

“Like I got a choice?...Yeah, that’s alright, c’mon over. Got the room now since Sam’s going to stay with John for a couple ‘a weeks.”

Dean shut his eyes and tried to ignore the pains in his chest before letting out a laboured breath, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, he actually agreed to go out there? Didn’t think he would.”

“Y’know how the kid is. Doesn’t like to offend your old man.” Dean groaned, sitting on the edge of his bed. What could he say to stop him? Sam wanted to go see their father, Dean couldn’t stop him. He tried not to let it worry him for now. He was supposed to be taking it easy or something – whatever. Sam’d be fine. 

“Right, I’ll catch him before he goes.” 

“You want dinner here?” 

“Yeah, alright.”

“Okay, son, see you in a while.”

It didn’t take long to pack up all his stuff because honestly he didn’t have much. Most of his money went on paying for the upkeep of his apartment so whatever clothes he had, he’d had for years. He stuck some old Rolling Stones vinyl on the record player, feeling the pinch at having to leave the old thing behind. But, it’d be there when he got back. Eventually. 

While he zipped up the case his mind wandered to the lost guy he’d bumped into not so long ago. He played out the possible scenarios in his mind; mostly the one that ended with them making out as the doors dinged shut. He whistled lowly, laughing to himself.  
“Home-wrecker.” He said lowly to himself, pulling the case off his bed, heaving a bit when it hit the ground. 

Dean neglected it there on the ground to go and make sure everything was turned off at the mains, but also to get his breath back. Packing was hard work. Or…It was to him. He picked up a couple of extra boxes of new inhalers on the way back to his bedroom, just in case. Asthma attacks weren’t something that happened often, but with his bad heart now, the steaks were a little higher. Better safe than sorry, he figured.

He continued singing to himself after the record player was turned off, lifting up the case again, cutting off the song in one breath. One more glance around later and he was out the door, setting the case back down to lock the door. Trying to ignore the uncomfortable thump of his heart.

“Going somewhere?” The woman across the hall chimed, leaning against her door with folded arms, tight smirk on her lips.

“What gave it away?” He turned, glad to get a rest. “Was it the suitcase?” He nudged it with his foot.

“Maybe. I have a keen eye.” 

“You’re blind, Pam.” Dean said before the pair of them bubbled with laugher. Dean’s, admittedly, a little more strained.

“Ever heard that loosing one sense strengthens another?”

“So, what would happen if I lost my lungs?” Dean quirked an eyebrow. “Super strength? Speed? Something awesome?” 

“You’d probably die.” 

“Probably.” Dean scoffed, going to pick up the case again, now that his heart was finally slowing again. “Yeah, well, turns out my lungs aren’t the problem right now anyway. You were right.”

“So, it was your heart? Sorry to hear that, Dean.” Pam frowned. “But I did tell you I was psychic.” Dean laughed again, stopping before his chest tightened with the want of a cough. He liked that he and Pam kept things light. Hell, if they didn’t, they’d probably go insane. 

“You did. But, I’m gonna stay with Bobby for a while. In case, y’know, I die unexpectedly or somethin’. Keep an eye on the place?” 

“All three.” She opened her arms with a wide smile and Dean went to wrap his around her. “I’ll miss ya.” He huffed a laugh at that, squeezing her tight before letting go to head back to the elevator. 

“See ya!”

“See ya, Sugar.” 

By some miracle, Dean managed to get the suitcase into the car, only having to stop twice on the way there. He wiped his forehead, sitting down in the drivers side, door still swung open on the side walk. It was June and it was only going to get hotter. Kansas. It was times like these he wished he’d grown up in Alaska. 

The leather in the Impala was so hot he was sure it was going to burn holes in his jeans, but he made the ride without any serious harm done. He looked in the rear-view as he drove down the road, already feeling a little homesick. Dean loved his apartment. He loved his own space and his own rooms. He loved his neighbor. He loved that the place seemed ready to fall to the ground in a pile of dust and dirt but still stood through every kind of weather the world threw at it. Yeah, it was only a couple of months, but there really was no place like home.

“Took you long enough.” Bobby said when Dean finally climbed out of the car. Hell was probably colder than Baby right now. “Sam’s missed three buses just so he could see you before he went.”

“Delaying the inevitable probably-Hey, I got that.” Dean said when Bobby went for the suitcase. Respectfully, and thankfully, Bobby backed away with his hands up to let Dean tug it out and haul it up to the house, dropping it at the front door for a second. His chest heaved a couple of dry coughs but nothing more than that. “Where is he?”

“Kitchen.” 

Dean went where instructed, finding Sam at the kitchen table, book opened in front of him. “Hey.” He was glad that Bobby had sauntered off. Honestly, he wanted to find out what had possessed his little brother to travel all those miles from Lawrence down to Dodge to see their father - because that was a hell of a long way just to see an asshole for a couple of weeks, in Dean’s opinion. 

“Dean, hey!...Bobby told me about-”  
“Figured. Don’t worry about it.” He added quickly. “They’ll have me in and outta there in no time. No big deal.” Though, the silence that surrounded them told Dean that Sam thought otherwise. He decided to ignore it. “So, you decided to go see him?”

“Well, yeah, he’s been asking for weeks, Dean.” 

“Yeah but…Really? Hey, I’m not trying to change your mind or anything…But really?” 

“Yes. I get he’s not Dad of the Year-“

“Century.”

“Right, whatever, but he’s…He’s still our Dad and I think I ought to give the guy a chance.” He bit his lip. Dean let out a breath and pulled out a chair. 

“I’m just saying that I don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“Look, I know what he did to you was a terrible thing, Dean, and I’ll never forgive him for that…But, he sounded different on the phone. He wants me to go down there and meet a couple of his friends to go hunting this weekend.” 

“What?” Dean’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I know.” Sam said, a disbelieving sound of a laugh passed his lips. “I know, I was confused too. I mean, it’s worth a visit. And I’m only a bus ride home if all goes to hell.” 

“I guess so.”

“…So, don’t get worked up or anything, alright?” Sam looked at him, eyes unmoving for a long time. Dean sat back a bit in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He tried not to scowl, he really did, but clearly he wasn’t doing a very good job. “You know what it-”

“Sammy, shut up.” He snapped. Sam stopped, scratching his neck a bit awkwardly before getting to his feet. 

“I better get going anyway.” Sam cleared his throat and picked up his own bags. Dean stayed sitting, partly because he hadn’t recovered from the trip inside. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Bon voyage.” Dean said dryly but Sam still bent down to hug him, ignoring the dig. Though, Dean caved and reached up to pat his back a couple of times. “Tell Dad thanks for the invite.” He called as Sam hauled the bag over his shoulder.

“Dean.” The younger scolded. Dean just laughed. 

He didn’t get up to watch Sam cross the road to the bus stop, but he knew Bobby did. There was no point in pretending he wasn’t concerned about the outcome of Sam’s trip, but it was only a few weeks. And Sam could handle himself. The pair of them had been doing that for long enough – and if Sam said he sounded different, then he must have. 

To be honest, their father could have sounded like the Queen of England and Dean still wouldn’t have given him a another chance. But, for now, he sat back and let his eyes shut, thinking about his little elevator fantasy. At least he could forget. He had the blue eyed man to thank for that.


	2. Chapter 2

Moving back to Bobby’s, as it turned out, wasn’t all bad. The older man would have pretty much waited hand and foot on him if Dean would only let him. But, it had always been that way. Dean found a greater father figure in Mr Singer in those short years, than he had in his own old man. 

Sam and Dean had been shipped out to him back in 1964 after a particularly bad incident that had landed Dean in a hospital. Sam still believed to this day that his elder brother had been jumped in the street when in reality; John just didn’t know when to stop. 

But, the pair of them had spent the majority of the week out in the yard. Dean sat in the shade with a cold one, dictating, while Bobby pretended to listen while he tinkered with the couple of cars Dean was supposed to be fixing but with his orders of _‘taking it easy,’_ he had to sit it out. 

Though, Sam was still at the forefront of his mind. He’d called the night he arrived in Dodge City and hadn’t called since. That was either a good thing or a bad thing in Dean’s mind, but he was determined not to dwell because John had never treated Sam the way he’d treated him. So, was there anything to worry about? Probably not. 

If he was honest, Sam didn’t know the half of what went on between him and his father and frankly he was going to keep it that way. If John could be a father to at least one of them, then that was enough. Dean didn’t need him anyway…Or, at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. 

It was also apparent that his younger brother did want a relationship with their father. He was more understanding and forgiving. Admittedly, there were times when Dean was tempted to tell him. Tell him how John had run him into the ground every other night. Smacked him stupid. Ripped holes in all his shirts or stained them so much Dean had to throw them out. 

Obviously, Sam was aware of a couple of events simply because he’d walked in at the wrong time, and neither John nor Dean had enough time to cover it up. Though, Dean normally just put it down to drink. His mother wouldn’t have wanted them to separate. She wouldn’t have wanted Sam to be distant from his own father. And why ruin Sam’s life? Why mentally screw him over when he was going places and doing things with his life? He shouldn't have to worry about his big brother.

Sam could make his own decisions. John wouldn’t hurt him. Dean could stop worrying now. Or, he could, _if Sam would just fucking call him_. 

He was on his way back to the hospital at the beginning of the next week, windows down, radio blaring, drumming on the steering wheel like he hadn’t a care in the world. He had an appointment with the asthma clinic; which was always a shameful experience. He’d have to sit in a room full of children and teenagers who were getting out of it. Plenty of adults had asthma, sure, he just never seemed to see them. 

Dean drove into the parking lot, thinking how he should probably have his own assigned space by now. Though, he was glad to say it was relatively quiet. He sauntered inside, taking a quick puff of his inhaler. Any sign of a wheeze or a cough when with Doctor Cherry and there was all Hell to pay. _‘You’re not gonna get better if you never take the thing!’_

For a change it was all very straight forward. They called him in within ten minutes. He trailed his shirt off and let her listen to his lungs, answered questions and new questions about his heart. She asked if he needed his medication upped which he shook his head too. Doctor Cherry didn’t look convinced but she seemed to take his word for it.  
“You’ve had no trouble at all?”

“Nope.”

“No shortness of breath or attacks?”

“No, ma’am.” 

“Well, that’s an improvement from last time. We can probably pin that to the heart condition now though.” He wished she wouldn’t put it like that. “How about that issue with climbing stairs?”

“Yeah, well, we can pin that to the heart thing as well.” Dean grinned wolfishly, though the older lady looked less than impressed.

“This is a very serious-”

“Why do people keep telling me that?” Dean said, picking up his shirt, smile fading. “I know it’s serious. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” Now, he wish he hadn’t snapped. Doctor Cherry just looked ready to give him a lecture from the moment he walked in, and now he’d just given her the keys to start ignition. 

“There is a deep seeded problem with you, Mr Winchester, and I know the reason your asthma hasn’t lifted is because you are still of that panicked disposition. It’s your trigger. For some people it’s allergies, for some it’s hereditary, but for a seventeen year old boy to just appear at this clinic and tell me his asthma sprouted out of the ground is…Well, it’s preposterous.” She took a deep breath, keeping her eyes stuck on him while he did up his shirt. Dean felt like she was trying to mock him as she took her time exhaling. He narrowed his eyes. “Panic induced asthma is a real thing and you have it. You have to stop ignoring it or-or pretending it’s not there. Whatever coping mechanism you have is not working.”

Dean rolled his eyes with a sharp laugh. “Gimme a break, lady-”

“I have a good mind to refer you to a therapist.” 

“Don’t bother. Saw a shrink when I was eighteen. I’m fine-”

“Well, your lungs say otherwise.” Doctor Cherry snapped. “What you’re dealing with or dealt with has had a negative affect on your whole body. Your lungs especially. Now, if you don’t get your mental health in check, this will never leave you.” She went to write something down on a piece of paper before tearing it off and handing it over the desk to him, slapping it into his hand. “I don’t know what happened to you but I’m telling you to give Professor Barley a call. He can help you and maybe you’ll finally be over whatever is holding you back from progressing. ”

“You’re telling me?” Dean said, smirking at the page. No way in hell he was going to see another therapist. They were money grabbing bastards and there was nothing wrong with him now. 

“Yes. I’m telling you. This isn’t a joke.” She leaned on the desk. “I’ll see you next month and there had better be a real improvement because I’m not buying what you’re selling.” 

“Yeah, I hear ya.” Dean mumbled, turning on his heel. He smiled over his shoulder, waving the note at her. The woman was back on her chair, a bit exasperated looking, taping her pen on the desk. 

“ _Refer me to a therapist_ – bullshit.” Dean mocked, balling the note up and threw it in a wastepaper basket as he passed. He’d never see another therapist as long as he lived – all that pity and those sympathetic eyes were enough to send him to the crazy house, never mind actually help him. 

Though, the whole ordeal hadn’t put him off his appetite. His stomach protested loudly as he passed the canteen so he figured he may as well grab something there. It was cheap and not half bad. He took a tray and drummed on the sides while looking over the counter at all the food on offer. Damn straight he was going for that hamburger with cheese and extra onions. 

He looked up and glanced to his right, initially to see how long he had to wait, but instead he got a pleasant surprise. It was that lost guy with the bed head from the week previous.  
“Hey, look at you finding your way around.” Dean chuckled, blue eyes of the man finally turning to meet his.

“It would appear that way.” He said, offering a small smile in return. “You’re visiting someone here?” 

“Nah, had an appointment.” Dean nodded casually moving his tray up when the man was served. He was wearing this dark blue cardigan over a bright white shirt and if anything it just made his eyes in bluer. Dean actually had to trail his own eyes away so he could order his food. “Hey, congrats on the kid, by the way. What’d you have?” The burger was set on his tray, he paid and smiled in thanks, turning to face the guy again who looked nothing less than confused.

“I didn’t have a child.” 

“Alright, alright, what’d your girl have?” Dean rolled his eyes and the two of them walked slowly towards a table. Together. Dean was actually a little surprised. He’d half expected to part ways again after that. He wasn’t complaining though. Plus, a distraction could be good. The man laughed now, pulling out a chair for himself.

“My sister had her baby.” 

“Oh.” Dean said, sitting down before he hummed. “My mistake. What’d she have?”

“A little girl.” 

“Sweet. What’s her name?”

“You have a lot of questions for someone I just met.” Dean just shrugged and tucked in. 

“Just being friendly, man.” There was a small silence before the guy spoke again. 

“Ella. Her name is Ella.” 

“Cute.” He nodded, mouthful of hamburger. “What’s your name?” the guy laughed again, twirling his pasta around his fork. 

“It’s Castiel.” 

“Hmm. Haven’t heard that one before.” Dean swallowed. “I’m Dean.” 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel smiled. “Nice to meet you.” Now Dean was the one doing the laughing. Though, it came out a little strained, forcing a thick couple of coughs up his throat. He shook his head clear, stuffing a few fries in his mouth, before Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say you were here for?”

“Just a check up.” Dean nodded, sitting back to take a breath. He wasn’t about to go into details. “I’m sure your sister’s getting out of here soon.”

“Tomorrow or the next day.” Castiel said, setting his sights back on his food. “I’m supposed to be taking her home only my car is-” A sigh passed his lips. “I’m no expert in mechanical jargon but in layman’s terms - it’s not working.” Dean nodded before he perked up, eyes meeting Castiel’s again. 

“Well, your luck’s in, Castiel, I just happen to be an expert in that field.” Castiel’s eyes widened before they brightened again. 

“My luck _is_ in.” He set his fork down, placing his hands on his lap. “Basically...It won’t start.” 

“That’s no good.” Dean rubbed his hands together. “Here,” He reached into his pocket for his wallet, pulling out a card. “Give Bobby a call, he’ll get someone to tow it over and I’ll take a look at it.”

“Thank you.” Castiel looked at the card for a second before he put it in his own wallet. “I’ll do that as soon as I go home…Fate’s on my side it would seem.”  
Dean scoffed, shoving more fries into his mouth before he cleared his throat. “Do you live close by?” 

“Yes, two stops on the bus.” 

“I can give you a lift if you want?” Dean offered. Castiel chuckled, shaking his head.

“I bought a return ticket.”

“Shame.” Dean cocked his head a bit, but he was half serious. Castiel bounced a bit on his chair when he laughed. It made Dean grin. He was a wolf going after a sheep it seemed. He was willing to put money on Castiel being a hard core Christian – not that there was anything wrong with that. He actually found it kinda hot...For some reason he wasn't sure off. 

Anyway, he was on a strict ‘no physical activity’ agenda set up by Doctor Brown, and he was sure sex came under the physical activity category. So, he was better just forgetting about those thoughts for now. “Speaking of buses, I better go catch mine.” Castiel said, rising from his seat. “Thank you, though. I’ll probably see you soon then.” 

“Sure, no problem, Cas.” Castiel looked at him again with narrowed eyes before a smile broke on his lips. He shook his head and held out his hand for Dean to shake, which he did, taking all his self control to stop him from planting a kiss on those soft knuckles. 

Dean watched Cas go again, letting out a breath before sitting up to finish off his meal. But he was struggling now. His stomach was knotting with a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. Interest. He wanted to know more about this Castiel guy. He wanted to know what he did for a living. If he had any pets. If he had more siblings. What his last name was. 

The only downfall to that was it made his heart race just that little bit faster. He noticed his breath pick up and decided he needed to calm down and think about it. Nothing was going to transpire from this. _So_ , he’d had lunch with a nice looking guy. _So_ , he was going to call over so Dean could fix his car. _So, what?_ So, it made him feel like a giddy big kid. 

Dean spent the rest of the day in front of the TV and when nine pm rolled around, Bobby came into the living room, phone outstretched in his hand mouthing the word ‘Sam’ before passing it over. 

“Hey, Stranger.” Dean said, eyes still focused on the TV. “How’s Dodge treatin’ ya.”

“Alright.” Sam said. “Miss Lawrence though.”

“Don’t be a baby.” 

“I’m not.” Sam said. Dean couldn’t help but feel a little concerned. Sam sounded a little down. Maybe he was just tried. 

“You alright, man?”

“Huh? Yeah.” 

“Sure? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“No, I’ve just been reading for the past couple of hours. Head’s fried.”

“Fair enough. What’ve you and Dad been up to?” He asked, chewing into his bottom lip. He didn't mean sound dry, but the mere mention of the guy just made him want lay someone flat.

“Nothing really…Doing a lot of talking with him, I guess.” 

“Oh yeah? What about?”

“Different stuff.” Sam sighed. This dullness or whatever it was, was starting to rile Dean up. Why was Sam acting this way? Why had he even rang if he was hardly putting into the conversation?

“Like what?” He pushed.

“Dean, nothing, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” Dean snapped, sitting up right. “Just tell me what you and Daddy dearest were talking about.”

“Forget it.” Sam grumbled. “I have to go. I’ll call you next week.” The phone went dead with the dial tone but still Dean called ‘Sammy?’ a couple of times into the receiver. 

He hated being out of the loop like that. Especially where John Winchester was concerned. He threw the phone on the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. He coughed and thumped his chest as though to punish himself. He did not feel like having a coughing fit right now. 

Bobby came back in, took one look at the phone on the ground and went to ask what happened but Dean beat him to the chase with another question, not wanting to talk about it right now.

“Hey, did a Castiel call you today?”

“…Hmm. Dunno, I’d have to check the diary, why?”

“Just wondering.” Dean shrugged. Bobby looked at him like he’d sprouted another head before decided against asking and turned on his heel to walk out. 

“Goin’ to bed.”

“Okay.” Dean called after him, settling back to the TV. Who cared what was going on in Dodge? Sam was obviously boozing buds with their dad, with their little secrets and – He stopped himself. He was over thinking all of this. No wonder Sam hung up, he’d practically lost his rag within three minutes of the conversation. Yeah, maybe he did need to calm down. Next time Sam called he’d keep a level head and find out what was going on. 

In the mean time, Cas was dropping by within the next few days, and Dean could get back to feeling like he was on cloud nine. He wasn’t sure what it was about the guy – or if the guy was even into other guys – he just liked Castiel. He liked how he looked. How he acted. That smile. Those eyes. It was all so attractive. And he was seeing him all over again so he could fix his car. Yeah, becoming a mechanic was turning out to be one of the best decisions he’d ever made.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, just wanted to thank you all for the support and great comments I've been receiving from this! I'm just so glad you're all enjoying it! :) so I finished this early today with the hopes that I'll have another chapter up tonight after this! Again, thank you so much for reading! And enjoy!

Castiel didn’t show up until two days later in the late afternoon. Dean was starting to think he’d probably came on too strong and scared him away. But, just when he was about to give up and forget all about him, the pick up truck rolled into the yard, and in the front passenger seat was one Castiel. Bobby went to help Ash unload the car and push it into the garage while, naturally, Dean went to speak with his new acquaintance, who also happened to be God’s gift to man kind. 

“I really can’t thank you enough for this, Dean.” Castiel said, running a hand through his wild hair. Today he was in a blue shirt, brown jumper over it. Dean just really couldn’t take his eyes off him. He half wished he’d made a better effort. Oil stained grey t-shirt and jeans probably wasn’t the best set to impress. 

“Don’t mention it.” Dean took his shoulder and led him towards the garage. “Was beginning to think you wouldn’t show. How did you get your sister home?”

“My brother became available.” Castiel said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I would have called sooner, only she needed me around for a couple of days while she got Ella settled.”

“Where’s her dad?”

“No idea.” Cas said lowly, making a bit of a face. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Dean took a breath. “Well, Bobby’s gonna take good care of your car.” He changed the subject, not wanting to make things awkward. That was the last thing he wanted.

He stepped into the garage getting a good first look at Castiel’s car. Dean scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. 

“What?” Castiel suddenly said from beside him. 

“Ford Galaxie, right?” Dean said, smile still clear on his lips. He turned to shake his head at Cas. “What the hell possessed you to buy that? I was fifteen when those things were rolling around.” Honestly, though, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Castiel seemed like the type of guy that would drive around in a ten year old, light blue, disaster on wheels. 

“My brother gave it to me.” He said, sounding affronted. It made Dean laugh again. “I’ll have you know that car has been a life saver on more than one occasion.”

“Yeah, just not now, since, y’know, it won’t start.” Castiel’s face remained hard as stone while Dean laughed. He squeezed his shoulder and let his hand drop. “C’mon man, let me go see what the problem is.” 

“Thank you.” Cas grumbled and followed him around to the front while he lifted the bonnet. 

“Dean-” Bobby called over, interrupting his conversation with Ash. Dean knew what he was going say and stopped him in his tracks. He didn’t want to seem like this delicate little flower with an iffy heart and lungs wrapped in barbed wire in front of Castiel. 

“Just havin’ a look, don’t get your panties in a twist.” 

“I’ll twist your panties, _asshole._ ” Bobby muttered and went back to his own conversation with Ash, thankfully. 

One look and Dean had the explanation to Cas's car trouble. “Your Starter’s loose.” He pointed to the bolts. One was actually missing. “Not a big deal. Sure we’ve got some around here that’ll fit.” Dean stood back up straight again, rubbing his hands together, sparing Cas a bit of a smile. 

“Oh…I feel like I should have known that.” His brow creased a bit. “Now that you’ve pointed it out, it seems obvious.” Dean laughed.

“Well, I did say I was the expert.” He coughed a couple of times into his hand, breath catching a bit at the back of his throat. He cleared his throat to try and dislodge the feeling but it wasn’t working. “ _Fuck sake._ ” Dean muttered under his breath, taking his inhaler out of his pocket, to turn and take a couple of quick puffs. The feeling cleared at once. 

Unfortunately it didn’t go unnoticed. He stuffed the blue container back in his pocket and scrubbed his jaw a bit before closing the bonnet with a heavy bang. It made his heart twinge uncomfortably. “You have asthma?” Castiel said suddenly, eyes still glued to him. 

“Yep.” He rubbed his chest.

“Well, I hear the pollen is higher than normal at the minute.” Cas said quite matter-of-factly. Dean was actually a little taken aback. No _‘that must suck for you’_ or _‘aww I’m sorry to hear that!’_

“Yeah…I heard that too.” Dean said, clearing his throat again before he shrugged it off. “But hey, you wanna see a real a car?” 

“Realer than my Ford?”

“Oh yeah.” Dean chuckled, motioning for him to follow, which he did obligingly. 

After telling Bobby briefly what was wrong with Castiel’s car, the pair of them headed around to the side of Bobby’s house where Baby was parked in the shade. If there was something other than Sam that Dean could take pride in, it was his Baby bought from a guy second hand in 1970.

“Can’t say I expected anything less.”

“Just compensating for my shitty lungs.” Castiel laughed. “She’s nice though, right?” He asked, giving the car a fond pat. 

“Yeah, it suits you.” He smiled. Dean watched his every move to make sure he was making the right reactions. The guy did seem pretty genuine, though it was easy to see he wasn’t interested in cars like Dean was. 

“Thanks, it was kind of a birthday present.” He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets while he leaned against the door. “From mostly me but Bobby and my little brother pitched in.” 

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah, Sammy, but he’s gone to Dodge to visit our Dad for a couple of weeks.”

“I assumed Bobby was your father.”

“No, he’s…Well, he took me in – but that’s a story for another time.” He ran a hand through his hair before walking past, gesturing him to follow. “What about you? I know you got a sister and a brother. That it?”

“Well, I have two elder brothers.” Cas said following him. “Gabriel and Michael. And then Anna, my sister.”

“Where do you come in all that?”

“Last. I’m the youngest.” Castiel chuckled, taking his glasses off to clean them on his jumper. Dean smiled. 

He’d known this guy no longer than a full day and here they were walking around Bobby’s salvage yard having a conversation. It was hot with all the rusty old cars heating up under the glare of the sun. Castiel even started rolling his sleeves up. They walked a little more, talked about how Cas was at college studying biology. How Sam was hopefully going to be heading to Stanford next year. It steered back around to Anna and her new baby girl. Castiel just looked proud as punch. It was quite endearing, the way he’d talk about her little fingers wrapping around his. Dean was going to comment on how that must be really nice for them, but then Bobby called him back. 

“Hold that thought, I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay.” Cas hummed. 

Dean turned and had to wipe the smile off his own face as he headed back towards Bobby as fast as he possibly could. He got there eventually, Bobby stood unmoving, arms crossed over his chest. “Havin’ fun?”

“What’s wrong?” Dean rolled his eyes, hoping Bobby hadn’t made him walk all the way over just so he could poke fun. 

“Not only is the Starter loose, but the gear box is pretty much ready for falling through.” Bobby pulled a rag out of his pocket and began rubbing his hands on it. “Have to keep her in a couple of days, if that’s alright with your friend.”

“I’ll let him know.” Dean went to head back to Cas like a child eager to get back outside to play. That’s just what it felt like. He groaned and blinked frustratedly at Bobby when he felt a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Hey, less of the attitude, Winchester, how’re you feelin’? You should stay outta the sun for a while-”

“Christ, Bobby-”

“Alright, collapse again. Fine by me.” Bobby let him go. “I’m just saying you’re the colour of a corpse.”

“You’re a real esteem booster, y’know that?” Bobby smiled wryly, stuffing the rag back in his pocket before he headed back to the garage. 

“It’s like this, kid. Get inside or I’m trailin’ you in there.” Dean mocked him while he back was turned before he called Cas back, not feeling like making the whole journey all the way over there. 

Castiel seemed happy enough about leaving his car at Bobby’s for the next couple of days and thanked him and Dean profusely for helping him out. 

“Give the kid a lift home, Dean.” Bobby said from under the bonnet. 

“As long as it’s no trouble.” Castiel said when Dean went to lift his keys off the counter. 

“No trouble.” 

Going by Cas’s instructions, Dean drove through the town to get to his apartment. The sky was full blown orange, with a vibrant bright yellow lining the clouds. It didn’t look real – like one of those movie set scenes. Castiel was yammering on about something or other, but the low tones of his voice ran through Dean’s ears like silk. “...But apart from that, the area isn’t all that bad.” He caught Dean’s eye and Dean nodded quickly, glancing back to the road, half wishing he’d listened a bit more.

“Hmm. We’ll as long as you’re happy there.” He said hoping that made sense, cough travelling up his throat. He rubbed his chest a bit painfully.

“Yes. I love my apartment.” Dean smiled at that. 

“It’s great having your own space, right?”

“Absolutely. It’s strange though. I shared with my brothers for all of my childhood so when I wake up in the middle of the night to an empty room…It can be a bit eerie.” 

“Get a night light.” Cas gave him another one of his stern faces, that only made Dean laugh more if anything. 

Eventually they pulled up outside Castiel’s block of apartments. It was a tall building at the front of the road. He climbed out of the car and lingered at the window for a second.  
“Thank you for the lift.” 

“You got it, Cas.” Dean said, cutting the engine, half smiling over at him. A small silence circled them before Castiel spoke up. 

“You want to come in?” A sound like a laugh passed his lips as Dean watched him scratch his cheek a little awkwardly – maybe even nervously. 

Who was Dean to say no to that offer? He nodded and got out of the car, locking it with one hand.

“Y’know, I don’t usually sleep with guys on the first date.” 

“Dean!” Castiel exclaimed, looking down the street, seeming absolutely relieved when it was empty. “What if someone had heard you!” 

“So?” Dean shrugged, sticking his keys in his pocket as Cas went to join him on the side walk, rolling his eyes as he went. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Dean grinned and rocked onto his toes with a smirk. That wasn't the first time he'd been told that.

Castiel’s apartment was small. Smaller than Dean’s. The living room was cramped and full to the brim with plants and shelves with books squeezed onto them. He had a tiny TV pushed into a space on the cabinet on the wall. Cas went to light a lamp, straightening out the throw over the couch before he turned with his hands clasped. “Sorry about the mess-”

“It’s awesome.” Dean grinned, eyes still wondering around. It actually reminded him a bit of Doctor Brown’s office. He liked that there was loads to look at. Every little nook held something in it that was worth his attention. 

“Thank you.” A hand traveled to his neck but there was a definite smile on his lips. “Let me make you dinner…You know, for fixing my car and being a general great help.” 

“Nah, man, you don’t have to make me dinner.” Dean laughed, hands back in his pockets again, fingers curling around his inhaler. 

“Nothing much, just a little something.” Cas said with an enthusiastic nod. “I haven’t had a guest in such a long time.” 

“Well, alright, if you insist.” Dean smiled boyishly at him, sauntering over to get a better look at the book shelf. 

“Okay! I’ll get on that…What would you like?” He said, disappearing into the kitchen, the door beads sounding after him. 

“Whatever’s good, man.” Dean lifted one of the books off and wiped the cover on his sleeve. It was a little dusty but he was able to make out the title. ‘Jungle Drums.’ He flipped it over to read the synopsis before Castiel's head poked out through the beads again.

“Chicken, okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean laughed. 

“You can watch the television.” Cas pointed to it, juggling with the tray he was carrying. 

“Alright, thanks.” He set the book back and went to plant himself on Castiel’s couch, while he got to work out in the kitchen, clattering about in the cupboards. 

The TV sufficed as a boredom defeater for a good ten minutes, but every now and again, he found himself glancing towards the brown beads that hung at the entrance to the kitchen. He could hear Castiel singing away to himself. Dean just couldn’t focus on the tiny little box anymore. 

“Need any help?” Dean asked, seeing the flinch in Cas’s shoulders as he turned around from chopping something. 

“You scared me…No, it’s alright. Go sit down.” Dean ignored him and picked up one of the cherry tomatoes on the counter and popped it in his mouth. “I haven’t washed those yet.” Dean just shrugged and lifted another one. “Dean, don’t eat that.” But he raised it slowly to his mouth, small smile twitching onto his lips. “ _Dean_.” Dean laughed and stuck it in anyway, happy to see the glare return to Castiel’s features. 

“You’re funny when you’re mad.” Dean said around the tomato in his mouth as he lent back against the counter. Cas laughed dryly and went back to cutting up some carrots. 

“Glad I can amuse you.” He said, but Dean had picked up another tomato. Honestly, he didn’t know how Castiel had saw, but the next thing he knew the other’s fingers were wrapped around his wrist, prying the tomato from his hand. “You’re like a child.” He said, bouncing the tomato of his chest. Dean raised an eyebrow, mouth slightly agape, when Cas turned and started cutting up his carrots again. "You'll get something off those."

“Yeah?” Dean lifted a hand full of the tomatoes and threw them at the back of Castiel’s head, crossing his arms with a grin when the other turned around with wide eyes. It pretty much escalated after that. The carrots were being thrown, Dean was shielding himself behind a cutting board while he got his hand on some pieces of broccoli that hadn’t been put in a pot yet. The pair of them were laughing, stuffing whatever vegetable they could get the hold off down the others shirts. Throwing whatever they could get their hands on. At one point Dean was certain the uncooked chicken had taken flight and hit off one of the cupboards. 

It ended with the pair of them on the ground, backs against the cupboard. Dean tried to cover his wheezing with a couple of coughs, but he was still laughing too much to care. Though, that came with it's consequences. He was worn out now. Head back against the cupboard, eyes shut as he sucked the air in. “How do sandwiches sound?” Cas said, pulling a piece of broccoli from his hair. 

“As long...As it doesn’t end up down my shirt...I’m good for a sandwich.” Dean wheezed out and Cas laughed, getting to his feet, wiping his jumper down. He nudged Dean over a bit when his boot while he opened the drawer to start on the sandwiches instead. 

Dean still hadn’t got his breath back so remained on the ground to collect himself. Cas never commented. But while he buttered the bread, Dean watched his shoulders. Whether Cas was into him in that way was uncertain, but Dean was glad he’d met him anyway. He was turning out to be a good friend if nothing else. The pair of them shared their sandwiches in the kitchen and acted like a couple of teenagers. It was one of the best nights Dean had had in a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was still in bed the next morning when Bobby called him from downstairs. “Sam’s on the phone!” It took him a couple of seconds to process those words. Honestly, he’d thought he was still dreaming. But he hauled himself upwards, almost coughing his lungs up as he did. It was the same everyone morning. After spending the night lying down, everything seemed to settle right on top of his chest.

“Coming-” He said thickly, thumping his chest a couple of times, gasping in for a breath of air. He pulled the drawer out noisily, searching for an inhaler. 

After taking it, he sat with his head down, waiting for that suffocating feeling to pass. He could hear Bobby explaining that he was on his way. Sam would understand what that meant. Eventually, Dean stood up, and staggered out of his room and down the stairs, taking the phone out of Bobby’s hand without a word.

“Hello?” He said gruffly, throat still hoarse. 

“Sorry, I rang so early-”

“Damn straight you rang early-”

“No, Dean, listen to me. I need to talk to you.” Sam said a little breathlessly. “Please don’t go loosing your temper, this is serious.” God, he hated that sentence. 

“Then talk. What’s wrong, Sammy?” Dean wheezed, steadying himself on the banister. “This about the other day?”

“Yes.” Sam said. Dean could hear him swallow. “Look, it’s-” But another voice cut his little brother off. _‘Let me talk to him, Sammy.”_ He said. Dean froze to the spot, unaware that he’d stopped breathing altogether. He heard the phone being passed over and the voice he hadn’t heard in so long was streaming into it.

“Dean?”

“…Yeah?” Dean brought his hand away to set it over his chest. His face screwed up a bit at how painful it was. Every beat was making his chest swarm with an intense heat. He drew in a breath through his nose in order to calm himself down. 

“Sam’s only gonna beat around the bush here.” John said lowly, words sharp. “But he wants to stay.” 

“What?” Dean swallowed, brow creasing. “It’s only been a week and a half. That’s a pretty-” He took another breath. “big decision for him to have made on his own in that time.” 

“Yeah, well, he made it.” John said. “Have you lost your voice?” Dean stayed silent, raising a hand like it was obvious why he’d lost his voice, even though John couldn’t see it. “You out getting wasted again last night, boy?”

“I have asthma.” Dean snapped, clearing his throat. “That’s not important right now – put Sam back on the phone.” 

“No.” John said plainly. “He’s my son, and this is what he wants.”

“Let me talk to him.” Dean said again, hearing his brother in the background. Though, he didn’t seem to be protesting. He actually sounded pretty heavy – like this was really what he wanted and he didn’t know how to tell him. 

“There’s a college here he can go to-”

“He can’t just transfer-”

“And next year, he’s going to Stanford.” 

“Oh, you’re happy about that now?” Dean said with a dry laugh. “He said you’d been talking to him. What’d you say?” He wished his voice wasn’t so strained because he was desperate to yell about this. Sam wouldn’t just go. Sam knew what their father was like. While John had never physically abused Sam – he was still destined on holding him back. 

“I told him the truth.” John said. Dean’s mouth fell open.

“What truth?! What the hell did you say to him?” His heart thudded loudly, making him groan. 

“I told him what you did to me. What you forced me to do. How you left me with no other option and I lost the both of you over it.” John didn’t seem one bit miffed by this but Dean was just speechless. 

“What I did to you? Right, so you didn’t tell him the _real_ truth, okay – let me speak to my brother-”

“He won’t be back at Singer’s until September.” John finalized. Dean’s whole expression changed - his face, and heart, dropped at the sound of those words. “Y’know, he was going to tell you about all of this last time he called – but you did what you do best and blew up at him. Your brother doesn’t need to be around that anymore. You were supposed to be taking care of him – the state he came to me in was anything but alright, Dean.” Dean made a sound, his chest was aching, and now the back of his eyes were starting to sting. “You ruined him. He could hardly lift his head to speak to me – but now he knows. He knows I wasn’t the bad guy. I was just trying to help.”

“You know I never did anything!” Dean forced out, feeling Bobby’s hand on his shoulder. He turned, keeping the phone pressed to his ear. “Everything you put on me – everything you did to me-”

“What’s he sayin’ to you?” Bobby said so loudly he was sure John had heard it. “What’s he sayin’?” Dean just shook his head, hearing his father laugh on the other end. 

“You think about it. You made my life a living misery. You stole, you drank, you were fucking doped to the eyeballs every god damn night – and had the gumption to tell me that I gave you asthma. You deserved what you got.” He could hear Sam now on the other end saying _‘That’s enough.’_ “I only ever wanted to help you – and you turned on me. I was lost without your mother and you resented me-”

“Let me speak…To Sam.” Dean voice shook, but he was furious and scared. Sam couldn’t go back there forever. “Let me speak to him!” Bobby looked just about ready to blow. He was in front of Dean, telling him not to listen, it was just John’s way of getting at him. “But Sam’s staying with him-” Dean made his best attempt at a yell, holding the phone away from his mouth. “Sammy’s stayin’ with him – he believes him. He thinks I was the problem-” The next thing Bobby tore the phone from Dean’s hand.

“Listen to me, you son of a bitch, don’t you talk to that boy again, hear me?” Bobby roared down the receiver. “Whatever bullshit you fed Sam’s gonna come out in the end so you better get the hell of this phone or put the kid on-” 

Dean’s free hand went to the banister again but that pain just wasn’t leaving his chest. It was circling and pooling over his heart. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, rubbing it with hope to ease some of the pain. “Bobby-” He winced, breaths shallow. He knew what was happening. Asthma attack. His throat was closing over and getting oxygen in was proving harder and harder with every breath he took. “Bobby-” He wheezed out, though the name hardly sounded like anything. Dean’s legs gave way and he fell down, still clutching his chest, but with both hands now. He heard the phone drop to the floor but that was just about the last thing he did hear. 

When he woke he was on Bobby’s couch, oxygen mask over his mouth, unfamiliar woman hovering over him. “Alright, welcome back, Dean.” She said in a voice that was too soft and too calm. His hand went right for the mask but she stopped it with one quick movement. “Do you remember what happened?” She chimed. Dean glared at her. “Alrighty, well basically, this was your body’s way of protecting itself from your attack.” He rolled his eyes, moving his head to the side. He didn’t want to look at her anymore. He was already humiliated beyond belief without this woman talking down to him. “You’re going to be just fine – these things happen.” 

After that she disappeared off to talk to Bobby. Dean was glad to get a moment to let his eyes drift shut again. Yeah, he remembered what had happened. How the hell could he forget it? Whatever John had said – whatever twisted statement he’d made had Sam wanting to move out there with him. Dean just couldn’t understand why. Sam didn’t exactly have it easy either. Sure, Dean managed to shelter him from the worst of it – but John had his ways of getting at Sammy too. Different ways. 

He needed to talk to his little brother, though how was he going to do that with Winchester senior prowling around - ready to throw the blame ball into his court. He took a deep breath, drinking in the oxygen, it was refreshing at least. But, he just couldn’t shake what was happening. Sam was moving back with their dad. After years of living with Bobby - just like that he was going.

Bobby was back at Dean’s side again, sitting on the edge of the couch, giving his shoulder a small shake. “Well, it _was_ overdue.” He said lowly. 

“…Did you speak to him?” 

“No.” Bobby sighed. “But I plan on it. Even if we have to drive down there, Dean, we will. There’s somethin’ fishy ‘bout all this.”

“I know.” 

“What’d John say to you?” Dean groaned, shaking his head. He didn’t feel like talking about him right now.

“Long story short... He’s turned my brother against me.” Dean said weakly, wishing he didn’t sound so pathetic, but his throat still hadn’t quite recovered. 

“That won’t last for long.” Bobby said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “John can swing a sweet story but Sam’ll only buy it for so long. He’s big enough to know who’s in the right and who’s in the wrong about all this. You are not to blame. You were abused in all this – not your father. Sam knows that. So, whatever John has told him, will pass, because it’s you he always ran too when things got tough and it's you he trusts.” Dean nodded. That felt better. A sense of relief settled on him. That was true. Sam always came back to him. No matter what. John had his claws in now but one slip up and Sam would be out of there. “Believe me, Sam can differentiate between bullshit and the truth.” 

“Just not right now.”

“Well, this has gotta be tough on him too – it’s been years since you’ve seen your old man. Last time Sam seen him he was just a kid. He’s probably just all wrapped up in it…You know better than anyone what your daddy’s like.” 

“Yeah.” Dean cleared his throat. “So, he’ll be back?”

“One way or another.” Bobby stood, waving it off like it was nothing. “Now you get some sleep, alright? We’ll work it out later.” For once, Dean did as he was told, and settled himself back onto the couch. All of five minutes later and he was fast asleep. 

*  
The next evening, Castiel was back for his car. It was Sunday and Dean and Bobby were having dinner. There hadn’t been another word from Sam or John, which for Dean, was a little worrying. Though, he was able to shake it off. One way or another they’d get Sam back and he’d know the truth. Dean was determined to tell him. He was old enough to know what had really went on between Dean and their father. 

There was no doubting that Sam was all caught up in this emotionally. He was thirteen when he'd left for Bobby's on the knowledge that it was too dangerous for them to stay in that neighborhood. So, of course, it was going to be easy for him to take in everything their father said. He could put on a sob story like nobodies business and Sam was good at getting wrapped up in them. But, sooner or later, he'd see. John was good but he couldn't keep it up forever. Dean just had to keep telling himself that, anyway. Sam was everything to him. Sam was his reason for getting up in the morning and going to bed at night. He loved his little brother with a burning passion and more than anything, this was breaking his heart. If Sammy was gone...So was his reason for everything.

Over the years there'd been times when Dean had taken to his room and not surfaced for days. There'd been times when Dean could not deal with things the way he could now. His own outlets were the things that could numb him - mostly alcohol. John hadn't been lying about that and though the consumption lessened when they finally got away, he still sought after it when the thoughts came back. 

His little brother was his only reason for getting back on his feet. Sam that didn't understand why this was happening. Why they had to go to Bobby's. Why he big brother wasn't as strong as he used to be. All this time people said that Dean cared for Sam - when it was really the other way around. Had it not been for Sam, Dean would have done himself in a long time ago. 

The front door wrapped and Bobby went to answer it, Dean still not fully recovered. He zipped up his black hoodie and picked up his fork again, even though he didn’t have much of an appetite for anything which wasn't like him. Though, he was pleased to see who walked in. 

“Cas.” He said gruffly, a smile forming on his lips. “Hey.”

“Hello, Dean.” He said, though his brow was creased. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Dean said, turning in his seat to face him properly. “Back for your car?”

“Yes.” He said, walking towards him. Dean kicked a chair out for him to sit on, which he did. Though, Cas’s orbs were just stuck on him. Honestly, he didn’t like it. It was making his chest hurt. “Are you unwell?”

“Just a bug.” Dean shrugged, avoiding eye contact at all costs. He was burning with embarrassment again. 

“Maybe you caught it at the hospital.”

“Probably.” Dean managed a small smile, twirling his fork around. “Or maybe it was those tomatoes.”

“Well, I did warn you.” Cas said before he chuckled. “That was one serious mess you left me with.” 

“Hey, I offered to help.” Cas just shook his head, looking to the window as the car’s horn blasted when Bobby pulled up with it. Dean looked out too, feeling a pang in his stomach. He didn’t want him to go yet...He'd just got here. He wanted someone to talk to – but still, he didn’t know Cas all that well. 

Castiel stood from his chair, pushing it back in under the table. It was quiet between them. Dean didn’t quite know what to say and neither did Cas by the looks of things. What Dean wanted to do was ask him to stay – but would that be weird? He was about to go for it anyway, but Cas got there first. “Would you…Maybe like to go for dinner?” Dean’s lips parted before he forced them shut again, wiping his lips as he sat back in the chair. 

“Are you asking me out?” He said quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Bobby wasn’t there. He was a little shocked. Though, this did confirm his assumptions. “…I’d love too. But do _you_ mind that kind of attention?” Honestly, Dean didn’t care. He never cared. No one knew him well enough to put a name to a face anyway. Any person, guy or girl he’d been with, never lasted longed than a night.

“What’s two people having dinner together?” 

“Well, we could wear suits and pretend it’s a business deal.” Dean scoffed.

“We could.” Cas nodded, eyes bright. “We could call each other Mr and Mr the whole time.”

“Mr _what_ though?” Dean asked, famous smirk back on his face.

“Novak.” Cas held out a hand. “It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you, Mr…”

“Winchester.” Dean took his hand, chuckling while Cas played along. “So, how about I pick you up tomorrow at seven, Mr Novak?”

“Sounds fine to me.” Castiel let go off his hand, laughter bubbling from his throat. “As long as you’re feeling well enough.”

“It’ll do me good. I’ll see you then.” Cas gave him a small wave goodbye and with that he was gone and back in his car.

When the car was gone and any sign of Cas being here went with it, it finally hit Dean what was happening. He’d just been asked to dinner. No one asked him to dinner – normally he was the one doing the asking. He ran a hand through his hair, grinning widely to himself, before Bobby came in and burst he bubble.

“Dishes. Let’s go. You’ve sat on your ass all day.” 

“Alright, alright.” Dean obliged, getting to his feet. He wasn’t sure how he was containing himself but he felt like he could run eight miles. He had a date with the lost guy in the elevator. Maybe he hadn't woke up from his black out yet and this was just a dream. Whatever it was, it was happening. Dean just couldn't believe it. The smile didn't leave his face for the rest of the day, and he doubted it ever would again.


	5. Chapter 5

The whole next day Dean could find no means of settling himself. He was going on a date. A real date. Of course, Bobby had no idea what was going on. Dean was grateful he didn’t ask, though he was sure he suspected something was up – considering he was pacing around, drumming his fingers and rattling things in order to pass some amount of time. Bobby just watched him from over his paper with a raised eyebrow before he got up and said something about going out. 

Finally, the time came, and Dean was ready to go. He had one navy suit, it was nothing great, but it did the job. It was a little small but it could probably pass as being fitted. Well, that’s what he hoped anyway. The only thing was that it was uncomfortable. He still wasn’t feeling one hundred percent better but he was willing to suffer for a couple of hours. 

He glanced at himself in the long mirror, smoothing down his tie, and dare he say it, he was starting to feel a little reluctant. His chest was feeling restricted under his shirt and everything was just tight. He was half contemplating calling it off. He didn’t feel like going to sit in some restaurant and have people stare when he coughed a little too loud or ask if he was _‘dying with the cold’_. 

His skin was still pasty looking and his eyes were heavy with tiredness. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Cas would understand, wouldn’t he? But then he’d actually gone to the trouble to ask him out. He decided a few hours would be fine – he could make his excuses and go if things worsened. He ought to be excited. This was a real date. A real date with the guy he’d thrown tomatoes at the day previous. With the guy that had the brightest eyes and the best smile this side of anywhere. With Castiel Novak. 

He pulled himself together and went down stairs, grabbing his keys, before heading into the kitchen to find Bobby working at a part of something. “Goin’ out, so I’ll see you later.” 

“Alright.” Bobby said sparing him a bit of a look. “…Ya got your inhaler.”

“Yeah, just in case.” Dean said, patting his pocket. “Bye.”

“Bye, kid.” 

Dean waited outside Castiel’s apartment block and glanced at his watch. He came out at seven on the dot, giving Dean a bit of a wave as he shut the heavy door behind him. He looked good, as far as Dean could tell from here. He wore a black suit that was slightly too big for his shoulders and a skinny blue tie. For once he wasn’t wearing his glasses either.

Cas climbed in, giving Dean a tight closed mouth smile that made him grin. He was going to comment on how good he looked but then Cas was speaking.

“Well, you certainly look a lot better.”

“Think so?” Dean chuckled, pulling out from the sidewalk. He didn’t really feel like it, and he wasn’t sure it Castiel was just being polite or not, but he took it as a compliment. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’d thought maybe Benedicts or something.” Cas shrugged. 

“Think I’m made of money?” Dean gave Cas a look and the other laughed. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Really, he didn’t care about the money or how much it would cost. He’d have taken Castiel to the moon and back, if that’s what he’d wanted. 

They arrived and were seated at a little table near the back. Dean could already see a host of other people, mostly couples, crammed into small tables all chattering and glass clinking away. Cas spoke to the waiter while he led them to their seat and Dean found himself memorized once more. Cas was really something. All smiles and bubbly laughter. Dean had barely noticed the waiter put the menu in his hand, but he turned just in time to thank him. 

“Didn’t think it would be so full for a Monday night.” Cas said, flicking through his menu. Dean just hummed, forcing his own eyes down. He still wasn’t all that hungry – and it was annoying as hell. Everything looked so good, he just didn’t feel like eating. He set the menu aside for a second and allowed himself the small pleasure of looking at Cas and decided he should know.

“Cas, you look so good in that suit.” 

“Dean-” Cas scolded, though there was a definite smile there.

“No, I mean it.” Dean said a little lower. “You look good. You always look good.” 

“If someone heard you-”

“Fuck them, I’m just saying, I’m damn lucky to be sitting here with you.” Cas just shook his head, small laugh escaping his lips. Though, in the dying light from outside, Dean could see a rosy tint to his cheeks.

The waiter returned and they both ordered. Dean ended up just having soup because he wasn’t sure he could stomach anything else. Cas looked a little concerned but didn’t comment. After that the two of the got to what they did best – non-stop talking. 

“You never told me why you were at the hospital that time. I hope it wasn’t anything serious.” Cas said, tucking into his noodles when the waiter had left again. Dean shook his head, sitting back in his chair. He was half waiting for the soup to cool, half willing himself to eat it. 

“No, I...” He exhaled. “I have an operation soon.” 

“What for?”

“Heart.” He scrubbed his jaw a little tiredly, sitting up again to pick up his spoon, figuring he should make some sort of attempt. “I need a pacemaker.”

“Dean, why didn’t you say something?” 

“What’d you want to me say?” Dean shrugged. “’Hey, my name’s Dean, I have an irregular heart beat, nice to meet you?’”

“Well, no, but…” Cas said, searching for Dean’s eyes until he looked at him. “That’s something I would have liked to know.” 

“Now you do.” Castiel shook his head again, glancing away. What else did he expect? This was ridiculous Dean Winchester that threw tomatoes at the back of his head. Of course he wasn’t going to tell him about a serious heart problem. 

The night wore on gradually and Dean was glad he didn’t call it off. Though, he still felt pretty lousy. More than anything he was just happy for the distraction, now that he thought about it. Cas was talking about his family. His father owned a shop in town that his eldest brother, Michael, was just about ready to take over. Gabriel seemed to be the most eccentric out of the bunch, according to Cas. And Anna could do no wrong. “How’s Ella?” Dean asked, having neglected his soup a long time ago. 

“See’s just fine.” Cas said. “You’ll have to meet her sometime.”

“I’d love to.” Dean grinned before a cough forced its way up his throat. He rolled his shoulders back when the feeling left, still feeling achy. 

“How’s Sam? Enjoying his time with your father?” There it was. The thought of having to talk about that made the feeling rush right back. 

“He – yeah, I think so.” He nodded, clearing his throat a bit, going for the glass of water. 

“That’s good. What are they doing down there? As far as I hear there’s a lot to do in Dodge City.” Dean hummed, still drinking, heart hammering. _Oh God_. “When is he coming home anyway?” The next thing he knew his chest clenched and the glass fell from his hand and crashed on the floor. The coughs rattled out of him after that. He tried to wave it off as Cas looked at him with this horrified expression. People were starting to look. He reached for his inhaler in his pocket and got the hell out of there as fast as he could. He knew this was a bad idea. He should never have left Bobby’s house. 

Dean stood on the sidewalk, gasping for a breath, tears streaming out of his eyes. Not because he was crying, but because of all the coughing. What good would crying do anyway? Though, he sure as hell felt like it. He took a couple of puffs of his inhaler and sat down on the curb, holding his head up in his hands. 

“Dean?” He heard Cas before his footsteps approached him. His hand found Dean’s back then, rubbing small circles into it. Dean shut his eyes wanting to pretend it never happened. “What happened to you? You scared me.” 

“Sorry-” Dean said with what little voice he had left. He cleared his throat and attempted to say it again. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Castiel said with concern. “What happened?” He asked again. 

“Dunno.” Dean swallowed. “Don’t worry about it-”

“Dean, please.” Cas went to take his hands away from his face, getting a look at his red rimmed eyes. “Please don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed, Cas.” Dean snapped, looking down the street. 

“Look at me.”

“What?”

“Just look at me.” Cas said and Dean turned, blinking at him silently, waiting to hear whatever he was going to say. He really didn’t feel like a pep talk right now. “I don’t care. I don’t care that you have asthma. It’s not all that you are.” He took Dean’s wrist, running a thumb over his veins. “I met a guy in a hospital who was kind enough to give me directions to my sister’s ward. The same guy took an interest in me at the canteen. Got my car fixed for me. I hardly know you, Dean Winchester, but you’ve helped me more than you know already. So, you think I care if you coughed your lungs up at some restaurant?” Cas didn’t look away, but Dean did. He glanced up, wishing it was pitch black instead of fading blue. Wishing he’d known Cas his whole life.

“I wanna kiss you, Cas.” Dean said outright, glancing back at him. Now the other’s cheeks were red. Roaring red. 

“…You want to – what?” 

“I wanna kiss you.” Dean said again. Cas drew his hand away and ran it through his hair. 

“I-”

“Hey, it’s fine if you don’t want too.” Dean chuckled. 

“No, no. I do. I do-”

“…Say no more.” Dean said, understanding as the other glanced around. He took Cas’s hand and helped pull him up, though Cas did most of the work himself. It was kind of adorable how Cas cared so much of what other people thought. But, times were still rocky, and not everyone was as open as Dean. 

But, now Dean really wished it was dark, but he stopped at an entry and tugged Cas in pushing him silently against the wall, letting his hands fall to his waist. He moved in, smile tugging at his lips when Cas’s hands found his shoulders. 

“It’s been a while.” Cas laughed, though judging by the shake in his voice, he was nervous. 

“So?” Dean shrugged, closing the distance. “I don’t care.” Cas chuckled again but Dean couldn’t wait any longer. He looked good, and tasted even better. Where he seemed soft, he felt even softer. Dean just couldn’t get enough. 

His hands travelled inside Castiel’s jacket, un-tucking his silky shirt with one hand while the other squeezed his waist as the kiss deepened. Cas hummed, smiling against Dean’s lips. Just like that, Dean’s little elevator fantasy was coming true. Except, they were in a darkening alley way with no other sound but each other. 

“Where’d I find you?” Dean asked repeatedly, pushing him against the wall before his hands met the soft skin of his stomach. Cas answered with a soft sound making Dean’s breath hitch. As much as he tried to ignore it, his heart was thudding uncontrollably and his hold on Cas was starting to weaken. “ _Fuck_ -” He breathed heavily, letting his head fall on Cas’s shoulder. Dean tried to catch his breath for a second while Cas held him close, smiling against his neck, leaving soft kisses there. 

When his heart eventually calmed, he stood up straight again to look at Cas, tucking his shirt back in again for him, before pulling Cas closer by his belt loops. “When I get my heart fixed, baby, I’ll-” Cas cut him off with a kiss, his fingers lingered at the back of Dean’s head, running through the short hairs there.

“Shut up, Dean.” Dean smiled. 

The ride home consisted of Cas twirling Dean’s ring around his finger, distance between them gradually lessening as Cas made his way over. Dean didn’t mind. Though, when he pulled the car over, he closed the last gap himself, taking Cas’s jaw to give him another kiss. “When am I seeing you again?” 

“When do you want to see me again?” Cas grinned, hand playing with the buttons on Dean’s shirt.

“Tomorrow.”

“What if you get bored of me?”

“Believe me, I’d never get bored of you.” Dean leaned forward again. 

“Okay, if you say so.” Cas chuckled, pecking him again. “We can go to the park.” 

“I can’t make out with you in the park.” Dean moaned childishly, nuzzling his face into Cas’s neck. “Let’s just hide out some place so I can touch every piece of you.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Cas said, whacking his shoulder. Dean chuckled. “I know you like a challenge. We’ll go to the park.” Castiel unhooked himself with another laugh from Dean and climbed out of the car. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, baby, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dean winked and watched Cas go back to his door after giving him a small wave. 

When he was gone, Dean reached for his inhaler again, taking another puff. Just one this time, just in case. He didn’t need any more blacking out episodes. When his heart finally settled down again, and he didn’t sound like a wheezing old man, he took off. 

Castiel had appeared in his life out of no where and he couldn’t believe he had. It was just like he'd fallen out of the sky and landed right in front of them. Anyone could have met him outside that elevator. Dean was so glad it was him. He was head over heels, crazy about this guy. He was everything perfect in Dean’s eyes. _‘What if you get bored of me?’_ he’d never in a million years.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't get over the support I've got from them fan fic, seriously! I just want to thank you all (again) for taking the time to read it, and leave kudos, and give me wonderful feed back that really helps me keep going! So, thank you!! Have another chapter!

July 1972

By the time July rolled around in Lawrence, the sidewalks were bubbling from the heat of the sun. Dean and Cas spent every waking hour together, and Dean had never felt better for it. 

They’d done almost everything there was to do in their short time together. They’d walked around the park maybe a hundred times or more because Cas loved to see the ducks and how big the flowers were now that they were at their fullest and brightest. He loved to sit on the grass on a big blanket and watch the world go by. And Dean loved to watch him. 

Castiel was so intrigued by the little things. He’d told Dean that every life was worth something. Even the little ants on the ground deserved to walk around because why should our lives mean more than theirs? A life was a life. Dean wasn’t sure if he’d said that for his benefit, but he liked that analogy nonetheless. 

He’d taken Cas to the aquarium during their first month together, and boy was he glad that he did. They’d gone during one of the rainier days and Cas hadn’t had a clue. When they arrived he’d practically ran out of the car and into the building. But, he still found time to offer Dean a private kiss when no one was looking. Those were Dean’s favourites. 

The aquarium wasn’t all that busy either because it wasn’t all that great. For the most part, they walked around in the long empty halls with huge glass tanks on either side of them, which Dean was thrilled about because it gave them the opportunity to act like a couple in public. He’d wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist while Cas read out loud about all the different kinds of fish. They held hands on the make shift rope bridge that crossed over a pool of funny looking thing, that Cas said were Ray Fish. They'd even taken a minute to fool around in a glass inlet as they passed. Cas flinched and demanded they move elsewhere when a small shark swam past them. Dean just squeezed him harder.

“How many fish do you think are in there?” Cas asked, finger tracing along the glass when they'd stopped at another tank. The dark blue tones in the lighting made in face glow in the darkness. Dean shrugged and sauntered over to his side, taking Cas’s hand to put it in his pocket. 

“Maybe a hundred?” 

“There’s more than that.” Cas rolled his eyes playfully and stepped closer to the glass. “It’s actually kind of sad.” 

“Yeah? How so?” 

“They don’t know what their missing.” He mused, watching the big green fish filter past, going around and around, never stopping. 

“Well, then, that’s a good thing right? If they’d known about the ocean they’d only miss it.” Dean glanced at Cas who was still mesmerized, though now he was shaking his head.

“If I’d never met you, I’d miss you.”

“Cas,” Dean laughed, taking his hand out of his pocket to pull him closer to his side. “You just wouldn’t have known I existed.” 

“I’d know there was an absence.” Castiel replied, looking at him now with eyes as blue as the water around them. “There was always an absence before you.” And just then, Dean knew exactly what he meant. “I bet they feel an absence of the sea. A tank suffices, sure, but I bet if you showed them the open water, you wouldn’t see them again for dust.”

“I bet you’re right.” Dean said, laying a soft kiss to the side of his head. Cas’s fingers curled around his shirt sleeve. “Should we bust them out and set them free?”

“I don’t want to go to jail.” 

“Then I’d break us out and run away with you.” Dean grinned against his hair, swaying him a bit as he turned to look back at the tank. Though, he focused on their reflection. How had he ever lived without Castiel. The answer was, he hadn’t. He did what he had to do, swam in circles until the day they’d bumped shoulders. Cas was his ocean and nothing else would ever compare. “I think I love you, Cas.” Dean had whispered. He watched Cas in the reflection who let his eyes fall shut with a smile on his lips. 

“I love you too, Dean.” 

*

The majority of their nights were spent at Cas’s place, where Dean would constantly bug him and touch him when his favourite shows were on. Maybe on purpose. “Dean-” Cas groaned, pushing his hands away.

“Just let me kiss you, baby, you’re so good at it-” Dean grinned wolfishly next to his ear, hand travelling upwards from Cas’s knee. 

“Please, I’ve been waiting to see this for weeks.” Cas puffed, slapping his hand away. 

“C’mon, don’t be a prude.” 

“Patience is a virtue.” Dean just rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t giving up just yet. He lay across Cas’s lap and tugged at his tie like an overgrown house cat. 

“Just one little kiss.” He puckered his lips. “Just one. You’re making me feel neglected.”

“You’re so clingy.” 

“Cas, baby, please.” Dean pouted and finally Cas gave in, leaning down to press his lips on Dean’s. Unfortunately for Cas, Dean had other ideas.

His hand tightened around the tie, so when Cas went to sit back up, Dean held him in position hovering over his face. “ _Oh no._ ” 

“Dean!” Cas scolded. Dean laughed. 

“You’re gorgeous when you’re mad.”

“Well, that’s an improvement from _funny_.”

“No, it was always gorgeous.” Dean said. “You’re gorgeous.” 

Dean let Cas finish he program but remained on his lap, letting his eyes drift shut, a couple of coughs passed his lips but they never seemed to phase Cas. 

“Have you ever slept with anyone, Cas?” He asked out of the blue, not really paying attention to the sounds of the television anymore.

“I’d love to know what way your mind works.” Cas asked, pinching Dean’s side, making him groan. He opened his eyes and grabbed Cas’s hand before he could do it again.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

“Yes.” Cas said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Once.”

“With who?”

“A guy I met at a party.” Cas said, running a hand over Dean’s hair. “Alright?” Dean nodded and let his eyes shut again. 

“Will you sleep with me when I get my heart fixed?”

“We sleep together almost every night.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas sighed with a little laugh. “But, you realize that’s not everything, right?”

“Don’t turn this into one of _those_ moments.” Dean grumbled and set Cas’s free hand on his chest. Though he had his eyes closed, he could tell Cas was still smiling. “I know. I just wanted to ask.” 

“You’re a gentleman.” Cas sat back on the couch, breath escaping his lips.

“I try.”

“God loves a try-er.” Cas hushed. “Take your inhaler before you sleep.”

“I don’t need it.”

“You do, baby.” Cas said, running his fingers over Dean’s soft t-shirt. “Just in case, for me.” Dean groaned and pushed himself off Cas’s lap. Cas watched him taking his puffs before he held out his hand and stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

“If it didn’t mean blacking out, I’d carry you in there.” Dean said, taking his waist instead. Cas’s arm wrapped around Dean’s neck when he kissed him there, making him laugh softly as he weakly attempted to push away.

“You’re too much.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” Cas grinned and found his lips instead. “Now, can we sleep, Mr Winchester? You’ve wore me out for another day.”

“It’s one of the only things I’m good at.”

*

The next week Dean finally got word about his operation. The letter came in the mail and Bobby handed it to him while at breakfast. “This’ll be for the pre-op.” Dean sighed, tearing it open. Bobby nodded, sitting down next to him. 

“You goin’ to Cas’s today?”

“I dunno, maybe. Think he’s going to see Anna.” 

“You ‘n him are awful friendly.” Bobby pressed. Dean knew what he was getting at. He looked up for a second, laughing a bit before his gaze dropped back down to the letter.

“You’re lookin’ too deep into it, Bobby. We’re friends.” He swallowed, straightening the letter out. “Pre-op’s on Monday! Look at that…I’m gonna go take a shower.” He stood, taking the letter upstairs with him.

“Dean-” Dean pretended not to hear as he shut the bathroom door behind him. 

Cas wanted to go with Dean for his pre op, but the pair of them decided against it. It might seem a little strange that Dean’s _friend_ would want to be there for that. Instead Cas kissed him at the door before he left the apartment and wished him good luck. 

The pre-op was carried out by Doctor Brown himself and it was all very standard. He was also given the date for his actual operation which would be in the middle of August. The sooner he got this over with the better. 

After the numerous amounts of scans and blood tests and do’s and don’ts before the operation, Dean was putting on his shirt again to get ready to go. 

“How’re you feeling, anyway, Dean?”

“Yeah, actually, I’ve been feeling good.” Dean smiled.

“I heard about your attack a couple of weeks ago.” Doctor Brown cocked his head a little. “You know what brought it on?”

“Mmm, probably just allergies or somethin’. Pollens high this time of year, right?” 

“You have panic induced asthma, Dean. _Panic_ induced. Unless you’re trying to tell me you’re scared around flowers, don’t bullshit me.” 

“Well, then, I’m scared around flowers.” Dean shrugged. Doctor Brown rolled his eyes. 

“Alright, listen, everything’s in order for this operation, so don’t screw it up, hear me? You stay out of anything stressful. We don’t want another close call. Two weeks of being careful, can you do that?” 

“Yeah.” Dean said heavily, jingling his keys in his pocket. “Can I go now?” Doctor Brown just waved him out with a loud sigh and a dramatic roll of his eyes. 

Since the day was still early, Dean decided on stopping by at Bobby’s before going back to Cas’s. He had clothes at Cas’s sure, but he was getting tired of wearing them all the time. The drive home was short, but the operation was on his mind. He’d never heard of anyone having a pacemaker before, and certainly no one at his age. Having a little box under his skin might be uncomfortable. He rubbed the phantom area on his shoulder before biting his lip. It was all a little frightening, that was for sure. Two weeks seemed like an awful long time, but knowing his luck, it would fly in. 

He drove into Bobby’s, parking in front of the house since he planned on getting in and out again without anymore questions. Ash appeared from the garage as he shut the car door, old rag in his hand. “Hey, Dean. Long time, no see.”

“Hey, Ash. Seen Bobby?” 

“Um, not for a while. He’s hiding out in the house.” He said, biting his lip a bit as he stood in front of him. “…Is it true, Dean?”

“What?”

“That you’re gay for that Castiel guy?”

“Fuck off, Ash.” Dean snapped hostility, though the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. “Who told you that?”

“It’s been getting around, man.” Ash backed off a bit, hands up in defense. 

“Well, how about mind your own god damn business.” He moved past, fuming now. Sometimes he hated this place. Rumours spread like wild fire, and this was the first time he’d been at the butt. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” 

“Dean, c’mon man, I never said I believed it!” 

“So what if I was anyway?” He called sharply. “What would you do about it?” Ash didn’t answer. Dean shut the door behind him and wiped his forehead on the back of his hand as he stepped into the kitchen. “Hey, Bobby-” But sitting in the kitchen was not Bobby. But Sam. 

“Hey, Dean.” His little brother said, half smile on his face, hair longer than ever. He was actually much tanner than before as well. Dean had hardly recognized him. 

“You’re home?” Dean asked, approaching him cautiously. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming home til September...Why didn't you call?"

“Dad’s gone for a couple of days on a fishing trip…So, I came up here. I wanted to speak to you properly.” He said, getting up of his seat. Dean stepped back, face screwing up a bit. "It was kind of a last minute thing."

“So, you’re not staying? You’re going back to Dodge?”

“Dean…Dad’s in a really bad place and…I realize now how much he needs someone.”

“How much _he_ needs someone?” Dean’s eyes narrowed. “I’m about to have heart surgery. You maybe think I need someone?”

“That’s why I came.” Sam hurried, going towards him. “I don’t want you going in there without knowing what was happening. From me.” He took Dean’s shoulder before his hand fell when the same feeling was not returned. Dean just couldn’t wipe the confused look from his face. Or the ache he was starting to feel between his shoulder “Look, I know how Dad gets. And I know that phone call got out of hand…But, he needs me right now. He’s messed up.” 

“You don’t fucking say.” Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest. He had to remember to stay calm. _Two weeks_. 

“Listen, Dean, this is hard for me too.” Sam’s voice raised now. “I’m torn between the two of you. I love you and I love our dad. Maybe it’s time to put all that stuff in the past-”

“You have no god damn idea what you’re talking about, Sammy.” Dean roared now, chest protesting painfully, though he ignored. “I was just a kid…I was just a kid and you had no idea what he was doing to me. So, no, I’m not gonna put it in the past.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, what was? That one time you seen him slap me across the face for coming in late? Was that it?” He actually laughed. “You think that was the height of it? That’s real cute, Sammy. Real fucking cute.”

“Dean-”

“Or how about that time I ‘fell down that flight of stairs’ and ended up with a busted nose and a fractured eyebrow?” Sam stayed quiet. “Or-or when I was fifteen a-and I got in a ‘bar fight’?” He swallowed thickly, feeling the tears come to his eyes. It actually sounded foolish when he said it out loud. How Sam had ever believed him had been a mystery. “Maybe that time-”

“Dean, that’s enough.” Sam said quietly. Dean took a shaky breath and pawed at his eyes before passing him to go and sit down. His chest was sore and his throat was starting to close, though this time it was because he felt like falling down and crying his eyes out. He took his inhaler and shoved the blue container back in his pocket before Sam came to sit down. Those memories weren't something he liked to think about, never mind bring up again. He'd spent years repressing them and now all his work was going down the drain.

“I wasn’t finished.” He sniffed a bit, glancing away from his little brother who looked at him with sad eyes. “We didn’t move here because things got too dangerous. We didn’t move here because I got jumped in the street. We moved here because I threatened to tell the cops. He said he’d kill me if I did and I told him to go right ahead.” It was hard to tell this story to his little brother. Really hard. He didn’t want Sam to look at him with sympathy, but it was too late for that. “He tried, man, he tried. If it wasn’t for that guy next door I probably would have died. John took off before the cops got there. I called Bobby when I got there and we got the hell out of Dodge.” He actually spared a laugh, rubbing his nose a bit. Sam swallowed, not taking his eyes of his brother. “Don’t look at me like that, man.” 

“Dean.” Sam frowned, eyes finally falling. “I wish you’d told me all that before I went running off.” Dean half smiled, focus on the table. “But, in ways, it’s also a good thing that I did. Dad’s really changed. _Really changed_.” Sam tried to get Dean to look at him, but Dean wouldn’t budge. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Sammy. “And though now I feel like an ass for doing that, I need you to know…He’s not the same. He wants me to go to college. He wants me to live my life-”

“Yeah, well, what about me, Sammy?” Dean snapped. “What about me? His other kid…He hasn’t changed that much.” 

“I’m getting to that.” Sam said, brow creasing. “Dean, he loves you-”

“Now, that’s just fucking bullshit. Did you hear that conversation on the phone?”

“He just doesn’t know how to take you…Especially after everything. He was hard on me too when I got down there.” 

“Well, that’s no excuse as far as I’m concerned.” Dean shook his head. “Whatever little fantasy of getting the family back together you’ve perceived in your head before you came up here, you better get rid of it. I never want to see that man again. I have this,” He pointed to his chest “because of him.” 

“I’m not saying that.” Sam argued, moving his chair a little closer. “I’m not saying forgive him, because I don’t. I sure as hell don’t forgive him for what he’s done to you or me, so get that into your head. What I’m saying is, give the guy a chance. For mom. He’s…He’s not well and he doesn’t know how to communicate with us.”

“There’s no excuse for beating your kid, Sam. No god damn excuse.” 

“I know. I’m just saying, for your sake too, being civil could be your life saver.”

“I don’t wanna be civil.” Dean said. “I never want to see him again.”

“Alright.” Sam nodded, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Alright, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask that off you…But it might make you better. If you know you’ve nothing to be scared off.” 

“I’m not scared of him.”

“Dean-”

“I’m not fucking scared of him, Sammy.” Dean barked, letting out a long sigh. “Are you going back to Dodge or not?”

“…Yes. I’m going back.” Sam said. “I have to.” Dean nodded, pursing his lips before he stood up and pushed the chair back in its place. 

“Look, you do what you gotta do, Sammy, I’ve always told you that.” Dean said lowly. “But just watch yourself because you think Dad’s changed, I guarantee you it won’t be for long.” 

“I’m aware of that…I just want to help him.” Sam pleaded. “I just want to help him, Dean. I felt better for helping you…I wanna do that same for him. There’s a good person under there. One that mom loved. One that we loved. Maybe I can find it again.”

“Maybe, but I won’t say I told you so when you don’t.” Dean had nothing more to say on the matter. Sam didn’t try to stop him this time when he left. He grabbed a change of clothes and was out the door without a goodbye. He didn’t much feel like it. Not after he’d spilled his guts to Sam and he was still set on going. 

But now that he was on his way back and had the silence of the wind rushing past him and the faint sound of the radio as he drove, he could see what Sam was saying. His brother just wanted to make their dad better and really he couldn’t fault him for that. He couldn’t fault him for being kind hearted. Maybe Dean was just being selfish. He didn’t know and frankly, he didn’t want to think about it anymore. It was up to Sam what he did. Not Dean. If Sam thought he could fix their father, then by all means he should try. Dean should probably be encouraging him. Not making him feel like shit. Now, he felt bad for leaving Sam at Bobby’s with half bad feelings. 

Whatever, it would work itself out. It always did in the end. It was too good of a night to be worrying about John Winchester or even sparing him a thought. At least Sam had the nerve to come up here and speak to him himself, and honestly, he couldn't be prouder of his little brother. Their mother would have been proud.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm sorry to say there won't be an update tomorrow as I'll be busy all day! But if all goes well on Tuesday I might have two up to make up for it!! But enjoy this and I hope it's a good read! It was pretty damn hard to write but this was the end result!! Enjoy!

August 1972

The count down was well and truly under way until Dean’s operation. Three days to go. He’d actually surprised himself at how calm he’d remained, but Cas had offered a great help where that was concerned. Since it was summer, and Dean was off work and Cas was off college, they spent everyday taking it easy. Dean had never had a better summer. 

Sam went home the same day he’d came back. Bobby didn’t say a thing about it, and neither did Dean. Bobby still loved Sam no matter what, and so did Dean. He hadn’t heard another breath from his little brother and he figured their father had everything to do with that. Sam thought he was doing the right thing, but he wouldn’t be told. It was all going to end in tears. 

Bobby was still adamant that he would be back, though. But as everyday passed, Dean thought otherwise. 

Dean was out in the garage, taking a look at the new car that had just been towed in. Bobby let him figure out what wrong with the thing because it gave him a sense of purpose – and he was bored because Cas was out with Anna and Ella. Dean had been invited, but he still felt like it was too soon to be introduced to Castiel’s big sister. What if she didn’t like him? What if she thought that Cas could do so much better? It was true that Cas should have someone that was going to be able to look after him – but Dean still tried his best. 

“Dean.” A voice came suddenly, making his chest twinge uncomfortably, sending a stinging kind of sensation through his shoulders.

“Fuck – Ash. I’m about to have heart surgery.” Dean barked, looking around the bonnet, hand pressed to his chest. “What the hell do you want?” He puffed shakily. 

“Jeez, sorry I scared you.” Ash said, running a hand through his hair. “Phone call.” 

So, he went to answer it, heart still feeling a little uneasy. It was like everyone was just trying to give him a heart attack these days – or maybe he was a little higher strung than he’d thought about this operation. 

“Hello?” Dean said, pulling a chair out to sit on, rubbing his jaw a bit. 

“Dean, it’s me.” Sam’s voice filtered in. He sounded hoarse and more edgy than Dean would like to admit.

“Sammy?” He said, disbelievingly. “Sammy, what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m coming home. I’m sorry, Dean – I’m sorry-”

“Woah, hey, hey, settle down.” Dean said, heart beginning to race. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah – yeah, I’m fine.” Sam breathed. 

“Where are you?” 

“Pay phone at the bus station.” 

“Okay, alright.” Dean said, remaining as calm as he could. Three days to go. This wasn’t a big deal. “What happened?”

“Dad…He went out last night and-” There was a bit of silence as Sam took a breath before rushing the rest out. It was easy to tell he was frustrated. “He went for me.” Dean didn’t say anything. He ran his fingers over his lips while Sam went on. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Will you stop sayin’ that? Just get on a bus and come home.” 

“Yeah, it’s leaving in ten minutes.” Sam said. “Look, Dean, you were right – I knew you would be…I just thought I could help him.”

“You tried, Sammy. I can’t fault you for that.” Dean said honestly. “It’s more than I could have done.” 

“I should have listened to you, though.”

“Sometimes it’s better working these things out for yourself.” Dean sighed. “Forget it…I’ll see you in a few hours then.” They both said their goodbyes and Dean hung up the phone, letting the silence of the room swallow him up. He tried to forget that John had went for Sam, and instead focused on the positives. His little brother was coming home. They didn’t have to worry about John anymore. At least, for a while, anyway.

On that note, he sauntered into Bobby’s office, knocking the door before peaking his head in. “Sam’s coming home.”

“Knew he would.” Bobby said, looking up from his paperwork. “What changed his mind?”

“Dad must have went for him – son of a bitch-” 

“Hey, what about that whole hippy thing you’ve got going? Chill out.” Bobby waved over at him. Dean just rolled his eyes. “It don’t matter – he’s okay though, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, seems to be.” Dean sighed. 

“Did he apologize to ya?”

“Yeah.”

“So, it’s done now. Just forget about it.”

“I intend too.” Dean said, coming to sit down in front of him. “It’s just-”

“It hurt.”

“Yeah, it hurt, Bobby.” Dean shook his head. “He ran off back there – I thought he’d never come home. I was sure set on John making him hate me.”

“That kid’d never hate you, Dean.” Bobby said plainly. “Never in a million years. Boy thought he was doing a good thing. Lord knows John didn’t deserve it, but Sam’s a good, kind boy. He didn’t really understand what was going on.”

“I know.”

“He was just a kid when you came up here.” Bobby continued. “He got took away from his daddy – he didn’t know what kind of man John was. Not really. Didn’t know any better either.”

“Guess you’re right.”

“Anyway, he’s comin’ home. Just forget it.” Bobby said and Dean nodded. Their family sucked enough without the pair of them fighting. Even though Dean intended on dropping it anyway, it was good to hear that Bobby wasn’t holding any grudges either. 

*

Cas called by at Bobby’s when he was done with Anna and Ella. It actually came as a surprise to Dean. He’d decided on clearing Sam’s room out, since it had become a sort or storage room while he was gone. 

“Hello.” Cas said, knocking the door lightly before he came in. Dean was sitting amongst a pile of papers and folders and other things sorting it all out for Bobby.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Dean said, motioning for him to come in and sit down, which Cas did more than willingly. 

“Thought I’d stop by.” 

“Well aren’t you sweet?” Dean smirked before getting back to sorting stuff out. “Speak to Ash before you came in?” he asked, giving the other a look. He hadn’t told him about the new rumours yet. He was sure Cas would be _thrilled_ to hear them. 

“No? Which one’s Ash?”

“The one with the mullet.” Dean sighed. 

“Why?”

“No reason. So, Sam’s coming home tonight.” He dropped the subject with a smile. Cas’s eyes lit up. 

“That’s wonderful!”

“I know, I can’t wait for you to meet him.” Dean said, putting a pile of pages into Cas’s hands. “…Only, he doesn’t know about-”

“I know.” Cas nodded. “No one does. We’re careful.” 

“Hmm.” Dean swallowed, chewing the inside of his lip. 

Cas got to lending a hand as well and between them, they had the room almost cleared out for Sam coming home. Dean found a box of pictures under Sam’s bed and pulled them out with a cautious smile on his face. He was about to slide them back under when Cas chimed in and asked what they were. Dean sighed and crossed his legs, putting the box on his lap. “Pictures.”

“Of what?”

“Me and Sam, mostly.” 

“Can I see?” Cas asked, sitting down next to him. 

“As long as you promise not to laugh.”

“Of course not.” Cas said, smile already on his lips. Dean gave him a knowing look and scooted over beside him. 

The pictures as it turned out where nothing special and there weren’t many. Most were taken by Bobby when the pair of them had arrived in Lawrence. Cas liked the one where they were standing by the big tree in the yard. Dean’s arm with tight around Sam’s shoulders and Sam seemed like he was laughing. “You don’t really look alike.”  
“He takes after our Dad.” Dean mused, pulling out another picture. “I take after our Mom.” He handed the picture of him and his mother over. It was probably the only one of his mother they had left. Dean had actually forgotten all about it. 

“You do.” Cas said, unfolding one of the corners. “You’re just like her.” Dean smiled, staring at his mother trapped in the photo. 

He’d always wondered what she would think if she’d saw what had happened. The way her boys were brought up. The state Dean was in now. Would she be worried about his operation? He wondered how it would feel to have her comfort. Even though he was only four when she’d died, he could still feel her. He could smell her. It was almost like she was right there but when he looked up, he remembered she wasn’t. Cas stared back at him, putting his hand on Dean’s. “You miss her.”  
“I do.” Dean answered lowly, sending a couple of coughs up his throat. “I miss her.”

“She must miss you too.” Dean spared a laugh. 

“Maybe.” 

Bobby asked Cas to stay for dinner after that. The three of them sat around the table, Bobby looked between the two of them with suspecting eyes. It was hard not to tell. They couldn’t keep their eyes of each other. Dean was sure Bobby knew somewhere deep down, but wouldn’t utter the words out loud. Dean couldn’t blame him for looking though. The way Ash had spoken about them the other day was scary – if that got out, who knew what would happen. Bobby was bound to have his suspicions. 

Besides, how had it gotten out? Cas was right, they _were_ careful. More than careful. But it was no secret that they were always together. It was always Cas and Dean this. Dean and Cas that. It didn’t take an idiot to work it out – of course people were gonna talk. As long as Cas was in the dark for a little bit longer, it didn’t matter. He didn’t need the only source of calm in his life to turn into a panicky mess. Dean had that role filled already. 

They went back upstairs to finish of Sam’s room, though it had turned into another fooling around session. Dean had Cas’s arms pinned to his sides, sitting on his hips, leaning in with a devilish smile to bury himself in Cas’s neck, making him laugh softly as he tried to push him away, though it was a failed attempt.

“For someone with a bad heart, you’re strong.” Dean just laughed, staying where he was. 

“Most people are strong compared to you, baby.” 

“Oh really?” Cas questioned. Dean chuckled again but a second later the air was knocked out of him when he landed on his back. Cas straddled his waist with a raised eyebrow. 

“Maybe I was wrong.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Cas said dryly, fingers running down Dean’s shirt before Dean beckoned him forward for a kiss. Cas smiled and obliged. Dean loved to feel him smile against his lips. He loved that Cas was happy. He loved that he was happy. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.” Cas said between their kisses. Dean was about to reply when an ear deafening screech made both of their heads snap towards the door. 

“What the hell was that?” Dean said, sitting up, putting his hands on Cas’s arms. Cas just shook his head and the pair of them got up to go downstairs. 

The front door was lying open where Bobby had obviously run out to investigate, so the two of them followed. It had sounded like a car crash and God knew there were plenty of them on that road. But this feeling washed over Dean. It wasn’t a good feeling. It was dreadful. It made him feel like the blood had entirely drained from his face. His legs started moving faster as he went outside, going to the end of the drive to turn the corner onto the road. Heart thudding all the way in his chest. Cas followed close behind him, brow furrowed in confusion. He honestly wasn’t sure what this feeling was, and damn, he tried hard to ignore it. But somehow, he just knew. 

His eyes met with the scene as he turned the corner onto the front of the road. He staggered back a bit, falling into Cas who just about caught him and no more. Lying in the middle of the road, mop of brown messy hair stained in blood, suit case strewn across the street, was his little brother. “Sammy…” the word barely escaped Dean’s lips before he screamed it. “Sammy!” He pulled away from Cas and ran, flat out ran, onto the road to scoop him up. Bobby was on his knees next to him, tears leaking out of the older man’s eyes.

“Dean-”

“Sammy…Sammy…Fuck, don’t be dead…Don’t be dead…” Dean rocked him, not caring about the blood that seemed to empty out onto his shirt as he hauled Sam into him. “Don’t be dead, Sammy. Please. Fuck, don’t be.” He cried, holding his brother tight in his arms. Any sign of a car was gone. The road was empty. Completely empty. 

“Dean-” Bobby said lowly, fingers clenching around Dean’s wrist that was just dripping in crimson. 

“He’s not fucking dead!” Dean roared, pulled his wrist away, looking down on his brother to push the hair out of his face. He didn’t even look like Sam anymore. The whole side of him was raw and gashed deep. Blood still painted the road from where he was hit to where he landed. How the fuck was this happening? His little brother was lying motionless in his arms. His soft features unrecognizable. Dean could see his smiling face in the picture he'd seen earlier that day. His breath hitched as his grip tightened on Sam, mumbling about how he couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. He's too young to die.

Ash ran back out onto the road, shouting about having called the ambulance, but Dean barely heard him. Cas was at his side too, but he hadn’t noticed him getting there either. He was saying _“Your heart, Dean, your heart!”_ but Dean didn’t give a fuck about his heart. His didn’t give a fuck that his throat was swelling up or his chest was crushing in on his lungs like a dead weight. 

“Christ…Fucking Christ…” Dean mumbled, over and over again, gasping for a breath. Arms were pulling him away, but he refused to leave. Where was the guy that did this? He'd fucking pay - Dean'd make him pay -

“Dean, please!” Cas begged, taking his face in his hands. “Please…You’re going to have an attack!”

“Fucking let me then!” Dean pushed him away, holding onto Sam, covering him away from everyone. Sheltering him from prying eyes. “You’re okay, Sam, you’re okay.” He hushed, wincing when his throat closed up entirely. He still wouldn’t let go of Sam. His body jolted, stabbing him right in the chest with a deep pain that made him cry out. 

“Dean!” Cas pleaded. “Dean, please!”

“Fuck.” Dean forced out. “In-in…” He tried, grabbing at his chest with his free hand. 

“Where the fuck’s his inhaler?!” Bobby shouted, taking Dean’s shoulders to physically pull him back. Cas searched Dean’s pockets but it was no where to be found.

“His jacket!” Cas cried and Ash took off running back towards the house. 

Dean made a sound, struggling under Bobby’s hold. Every time he saw Sam. Every time he thought about it, his heart pounded harder. “S-s,” He tried to get back to his neglected little brother but no one would let him. 

“Hey, hey,” Bobby said, blocking his view. “Don’t you think about it – don’t you think about it!” He shook Dean’s shoulders. “Your heart, Dean. Calm down.” 

Nothing was working. Dean’s heart felt like it was under a compressor. He gave up with a painful sound, letting his shoulders slump back as he gave into the attack. He fell against Cas, mouth gaping a bit as his eyes began to roll back. He could make out the sound of Cas begging him to sit up. _Stay awake_. He didn't want too. Not while Sam wasn't. The last thing he saw was the lights of the ambulance as they finally arrived. Some man dressed in white picked up his brother and threw him onto a stretcher. Dean was frozen but he wanted to yell. He wanted to tell them to be careful or don't fucking bother. But he couldn't. He was stuck. His mouth felt like it was leaking. Cas's hands were red as they wiped his lips. Cas was crying and holding him tight. He could feel the heat of his tears against his neck. Then hands came for him, pulling him away from Cas's hold. He didn’t know what they were saying, but people were shouting. There were hands on his chest when the ripped open his shirt, pushing hard down on him. He didn't care. His eyes started to darken at the edges. He didn't care. _‘Please don’t be dead, Sammy. Don’t leave me.’_


	8. Chapter 8

When Dean came to it didn’t feel like it normally felt to wake up. His body was stiff and, while he could see, nothing had a definite outline. _Maybe he was dead._ He blinked. Surely if he was dead, he wouldn’t feel this out of it. Unless that’s what death felt like – in which case, he was definitely not alive. 

The sound of an incessant beeping began to fill the deafness in his ears and soon he was beginning to realise that he was in the hospital on one of those extremely uncomfortable beds. “Dean…Dean…” There was a voice now. Dean blinked again, squinting in an attempt to make out the figure. “It’s me…It’s just me, baby.” A relief flooded him then as those blue eyes finally came into view. He wanted to say his name. Reach out to him. But he was still stuck. “You’re okay now. You made it.” 

_’I made it?’_ Dean thought, feeling Cas’s fingers wrap around his wrist, a happy yet sad toned laugh escaped his lips. Dean felt light. Airy even – the reason for that being the oxygen mask he’d just noticed covering his mouth. _What the hell happened?_ He wrecked his brain, eyes flitting around the room. Thinking was hard. It was taking a lot more effort than normal. Truth be told, he just wanted to fall back asleep. So far, being awake wasn’t very enjoyable.

Cas’s fingers left his wrist suddenly, leaving a patch of warmth where they had once been curled. A weak noise travelled up his throat, fingers twitching for Cas’s again. Though, he realised the absence of Cas’s hand was the fact that one nurse and a Doctor Brown where standing over him. “Well, didn’t you give us a scare?” Doctor Brown said lowly. No hint of a smile. “How are you feeling, kid?” Dean blinked his response, his shoulder moving involuntarily. “Oh, you feel that, huh?” _Feel what?_ he wanted to say, but his words were failing him. “We had to bump you up the queue for that pacemaker,” He patted his own shoulder – or, just below it. Now that he mentioned it, Dean could feel something. It wasn’t uncomfortable – just foreign. “Your heart pretty much stopped after the-uh…The accident.” 

That was it. The accident. Dean took in a sharp breath and from somewhere, strength found him as he went to grasp the mask and rip it off. Cas was faster though, getting up with the nurse to hold his arms down. “S-Sammy-” He said with what little voice he had. “Sammy…” 

“Dean, Dean.” Doctor Brown came forward, putting his hands out as if he’d find some peace in that. No such luck. Unless Doctor Brown said the words _’Sam’s fine.’_ Dean would not relax. “Please. You’ve just had heart surgery. Calm down.” Dean tore his eyes away and looked at Cas instead while he struggled to get free. That’s where he found his answer; in Cas’s red rimmed, drooping eyes. 

“Sam?” He asked again, his face screwed up with the ache that squeezed his throat. Cas shook his head, his own eyes filling up with tears.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas said. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sam-” Dean began hyperventilating.

“They tried to save him.” Tears slipped out of Cas’s eyes as he raised a hand to wipe them. “They tried – he didn’t make it.” 

They had to sedate Dean after that. 

*

An investigation was carried out regarding Sam Winchester’s death, though Dean was certain nothing would be found or done about it. It was a hit and run and his brother suffered the consequences. Sammy was dead. He wasn’t ever coming back. His little brother, forever smiling in all those pictures was all he would ever be. A faded memory stuck there forever. 

He lay on the same hospital bed, facing away from Cas - mostly because he couldn’t let Cas see him like this - hands clutching his pillow. He hadn’t uttered a word in days. Cas filled the silence. Dean wondered why he hadn’t just left. 

Bobby visited to tell him about the funeral arrangements. He shut his eyes when Bobby approached, crouching down to get a better look. “Dean…” Dean shook his head, not wanting to hear it. His lip trembled with the want of crying again before he took a breath to compose himself. “Dean, please.” Bobby whispered, reaching through the bars of the bed to take his arm. “Please.” 

“My brother’s dead.” Dean’s breath hitched as the tears began to roll. “My brother’s dead. What’s the fucking point in telling me what day he’s getting’ buried? I don’t want to know.”

“I know…But you gotta be there.”

“I’m not going.”

“Sam would-”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what Sam would want!” Dean roared suddenly, pulling his arm away from Bobby. “Go fuck yourself.” He sat up, wiping his tears with a rough hand. The wires on his arms caught him then and he hissed painfully before Cas detached him and untangled them. “My brother didn’t get a say in what he wanted – so don’t you speak for him.” He said more softly, though there was still a sting to his words. Bobby nodded and stood up. 

“I loved him too, Dean.” He seemed to dismiss what Dean was saying, purely because he was mourning. Cas stayed quiet, watching him the whole time, wiping his own red cheeks. 

Dean bit the inside of his lip to stop him from crying anymore. He’d always known it had never solved anything – but damn, he just couldn’t stop. Sam was so young. He was healthy – not like Dean. It wasn’t fair. 

Instead Bobby brought Cas out into the hall to tell him about the arrangements. Dean sat in silence, thinking solely of Sam. He thought about the day he’d brought a language book home from the library and was dead set on teaching Dean French. Or the day he’d fell of his bike and cut his knee up. He ran right past John and into Dean. Just all those stupid little things. His chest burned again as another sob showed itself. He rubbed his nose and swallowed thickly. Why was this happening?

Cas came back in and took up his seat again. He went cautiously for Dean’s hand, holding it tightly when Dean didn’t flinch away. “Friday.” He said. Dean nodded. 

After a moments silence, Dean prepared himself to speak without sounding like a wreck. “Why are you crying, Cas?” He turned to look at him. “You didn’t know him – Hell, you didn’t even get to meet him.” Dean laughed bitterly, voice still laced in sadness.

“Why am I crying?” Cas repeated before he shook his head, glancing away. “Dean, he was your little brother. I’ve never seen anyone love like you loved Sam.” He pulled his chair closer, letting his eyes meet Dean’s again. “Besides that, Dean, it was an awful situation. A-and then you - You almost died. I thought I’d lost you. I _almost_ lost you too.” 

Dean didn’t say it out loud but he wished he had died. He wished his heart had stopped and refused to start again. Death was probably a lot less painful. 

*

Dean was released the morning of Sam’s funeral on the grounds he’d come straight back. Cas helped him get ready. Neither of them said a word. What was worse was having to sit in a wheelchair. He wasn’t allowed to take his inhalers for a while until he’d fully healed up either – so, plus the wheel chair, he had to cart around this oxygen tank with two tubes shoved up his nose. He was a rolling disaster. He couldn’t even stand for his own brother’s funeral. 

“Won’t you show me your smile, Dean?” Cas said, lifting his chin while he sat on the bed. “Won’t you?” Dean shook his head. Cas’s hand fell along Dean’s jaw and rested at the back of his neck. “I wish I could suffer for you.” He whispered, crouching down to look up at him. Dean stared back, searching for the comfort that once showed itself so easily. Nothing was working. Not even Cas could help him. 

Bobby picked them up at the hospital, helping Cas put Dean into the back seat. He offered Dean a bit of a weak smile, but received nothing in return. Dean just kept his head down the whole ride. It was just…So shocking. He looked at his hands, seeing the blood cover them, drip from his finger tips. Sam’s face – though, he could hardly call it that - it looked nothing like him in the end. 

The next thing the door opened and he, aided by Cas and Bobby, climbed uneasily into the chair. Cas pushed him up the hill and Bobby pulled the oxygen tank with one hand, another on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Bobby.” He said lowly. 

“Forget it, kid.” 

The funeral itself was…Well, it would have been nice were it not for Sam. Dean’s eyes were on the casket the whole time, mentally having a conversation with his brother. _’It should have been me. You were supposed to bury me. I can’t do it without you, man. I can’t do it without you.’_

Cas stood next to him, hands by his side. Dean wished they could touch in some way. That worked normally. Cas’s touch was usually enough. But, not here. Not with all these people. 

He let his eyes drift over the crowd that had gathered there. It was a good turn out – of course it was a good turn out, everyone loved Sam. He thought then, if there was a heaven, Sam would be there. There’s no chance he’d be anywhere else. Dean kept searching through the sea of people until his eyes landed on a man in the back. If not for his pacemaker, his heart would have stopped again. John Winchester. 

It’d been years since Dean had seen him last and he had not changed at all. Honestly, Dean hadn’t expected him to be there. He swallowed and looked forward again before glancing at Bobby who set his hand on his shoulder again. Fuck John. Fuck everything. He didn’t care. 

_’I’m not ready for you to go, Sammy. I’m not better yet.’_ His throat grew with a lump then as the coffin moved, ready to be lowered into the ground forever. He stayed unmoving though, hardly hearing a thing the preacher said. Dean saw his brother taking his first steps towards him. The first time he’d rode a bike. The first time he’d gone swimming. The first time he’d climbed a tree. All of those firsts, and now this was the last. The last time he’d seen Sam he was a bloody mess in the middle of the road. The last memory of him. 

The only upside was that he hadn’t seen the time pass after that and that he was in a daze when Cas bent down in front of him to tell him it was over. Dean glanced up at him, mouth gaping a bit. He didn’t have an answer to that. It was over. Sam was gone whether he wanted him to be or not. 

The chair turned to face the opposite direction, and his sight caught the hundreds of graves before him. Most empty. Most with dying flowers in dirty water. It was a horrific sight to say the least. He looked over his shoulder. People were filtering away from the graveside, leaving Sammy all alone, just like the rest of them. “Wait! Wait-” Dean breathed, putting his hands on the armrests of the chair. “We can’t go yet!” He pleaded. Bobby and Cas shared a look. “We can’t leave…We can’t leave yet.” 

“C’mon, Dean, today’s been bad enough-” Bobby started.

“I’ll get outta this chair and walk if I have to, don’t think I won’t.” Dean was already clutching the sides so hard his knuckles were white. “I can’t go yet. I can’t leave him alone.”

“Go on, Bobby.” Cas said. “I’ll get him back to the hospital. We’ll walk. He could probably do with the fresh air anyway.” 

“…You sure, what if he-”

“I’ll be fine.” Dean cut him off. “I’ll see you later.” 

Cas rolled him back up the hill, rolling the oxygen tank and all. When they got to the top, Dean pushed himself out of the chair, arm being caught by Cas as he flailed out and lost his balance. “I couldn't...leave him.” He rasped, getting his breath back a bit. He hadn’t stood in days, but already he was noticing a difference. His heart began to regulate much faster. There was no uncomfortable pound. No painful twinge in his chest or shoulders. 

“That’s okay.” Cas nodded, helping him over a bit. “That’s okay.” 

A breeze slithered past him, a warm breeze that reminded him of early spring. Birds where singing. Sun was shining. It was a lovely day. It didn’t seem fitting. 

He let his eyes drift finally to the scrawling on the headstone, still not having his head wrapped around the fact that it was Sam's.

_In memory of Sam Winchester_  
 _1951 – 1972_  
 _Son, Brother, Friend_  
 _His true wealth was in his kind heart.  
And what endless wealth he did have._

What was to be said? What was to be done? Dean had no idea. He did wonder who had chosen his eulogy though. Probably Bobby. Cas stayed by him, tangling their fingers together when the place had well and truly emptied. The both just read and reread in silence. How could Sam really be gone? 

Dean took a breath and shook his head, Cas’s free hand running up and down the length of his arm. It occurred to him then, at his little brother’s graveside, that any chance of getting better, any chance of getting rid of this asthma forever, had just evaporated into the air. He’d never get better now. Not without Sam. 

Cas may have been his saviour, but Sammy would always be his lifeline, and it had just been cut into pieces. 

John's words where starting to ring true: _"You were supposed to be taking care of him"_ He was supposed to be taking care of Sam. If he had been, this never would have happened. His only job and he'd failed. Seriously failed. And Sam had suffered for it. 

He couldn’t stay on his feet for much longer after that, since he lungs began to protest. He just let them. He didn’t try to hold back the coughing. He didn’t try to settle it. Dean just wanted to get out of this god damn suit now. 

“Remember what I said about the fish and the ocean?” Cas said as he helped lower Dean back into the chair. “Earth is our tank. Heaven doesn’t compare.” He took Dean's face once he was seated. "Sam wouldn't see earth in his way now. I'm telling you, he's happy now. He's watching over you." Dean knew he'd meant it as a compliment, but the words hit him like bullets. _Sam was watching over him._ That wasn't comforting at all - it just solidified the fact that he was dead. 

Cas took Dean back to the hospital after that, and rubbed small circles up and down his back, and hummed in soft tones, until visiting hours were over. “I have to go now...I'll come back tomorrow. I promise." Cas said, pushing Dean's hair back off his forehead. "I love you, Dean. Don't you forget that. I love you.” He whispered, laying a soft kiss to his cheek, squeezing his arm a bit before he went to leave. Dean didn’t answer. He just stared at the little blue container on the bed side table long after the door closed shut behind Cas. At least he could count on that being with him forever.


	9. Chapter 9

February 1973

Five months whittled away before Dean’s eyes. He thought the sympathetic looks were bad before, they were ten times worse now. 

Christmas came and went too. Bobby nor Dean celebrated. No presents. No Christmas movie. Not feast. They just sat around until bedtime like any other day. 

Cas, of course, was a great help. When Dean finally got out of the hospital, he was around all day everyday. Bobby stopped asking questions – if anything was going to help Dean get better, it’d be Castiel. So, why would he jeopardize that? 

Dean was determined that his little brother’s grave would be visited regularly. It wouldn’t end up like one of those neglected ones. Every Sunday they set the date and the three of them, without fail, trudged up to the graveyard with a fresh bunch of flowers just for Sammy. 

Though, he never truly got over it. Not really. He learned to smile again eventually, but it was never the same. He only started watching TV again for the first time the month previous. He’d even started to put on weight again. It was like he was getting better.

Except, he wasn’t. The asthma was still as bad as it had ever been. He’d started having attacks more frequently too. There was nothing anyone could say that’d make him better. Sam coming back was the only antidote, and that wasn’t going to happen. 

One of the only good things though, was that he was no longer plagued with heart trouble. He was back to work and filling his mind with distractions – though there were days when he caught himself thinking _‘Sammy’ll be home soon.’_ which would send him back into the pit of despair – though, it was becoming easily to get out off.

As well as that, he was back at his old apartment, and he’d never been happier to see the place. Pam was glad to have him back too – she really was about the only one who could make him laugh. He’d missed her. 

In his absence, it turned out, she had gathered up plenty of information – useless information – to tell him. It was nice to pretend like things were back to normal when she was sitting in his living room, legs up on the couch, laughing about something that shouldn’t be funny. Then she’d asked why he was on such a downer, and he’d half thought about not telling her, he really had, but he figured she’d find out eventually. 

Pam spent the night on the couch with him, and they talked and talked until the sun came up. He even told her about Cas. It felt good. 

But of course, there were still days when he Cas nor Pam nor Bobby could make him surface. But those were few and far between now. It’d been six full months. Though, he’d be lying if he’d said it got any less painful. He just got better at hiding it. 

Dean was in the garage one particularly cold day, the icy wind catching his breath, but the sting felt good. He was underneath a Chevy truck, doing what he did best, getting greased up to the eyeballs, when he heard the familiar rattle of Cas’s car as it pulled into the yard. He rolled out from under the truck on his board and sat up to wipe his hands as Cas sauntered in, usual smile on his face. “Hey, Angel, wasn’t expecting you.” Dean said, half smiling, when Cas came over to lay a quick kiss on his lips before he got to his feet. 

“Yeah, well, I had a half day at college. Thought I’d come see you.” His hands wound around Dean’s waist then. Dean huffed a laugh and looked down at him with tired eyes. “You want to go catch a movie or something?”

“I’ve gotta work, baby.” 

“You can come straight back, Bobby won’t even know you’re gone.” Cas said, fingers clutching at Dean’s shirt, knowing all too well that Dean didn’t have to work if he wasn’t feeling up to it. “Or, we could go back to my place and fool around?” He tried, sounding a little desperate. Dean let out another breath. 

“Maybe later, okay?” He shimmed out of Cas’s hold and went to the bench to grab some tools. 

“Okay.” Cas frowned, playing with his shirt sleeves for a second, glancing up at Dean over his glasses when he turned. 

“I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean said, biting the corner of his lip. “I’m sorry I’m neglectin’ you…But, I-” Cas rushed over, taking the tools out of his hand to set them down, taking Dean’s hands in his.

“That’s not what this is about.” Cas reminded him then. Reminded the both of them. 

“I know but-”

“Dean, you just lost your brother.” Cas stopped him. “You don’t seriously think I expect you to run over and jump me after that.” He attempted a joke. Dean laughed a little. “No, I’m just trying to make you happy.”

“You make me happy, baby.” Dean assured him, pulling him close. “It doesn’t matter what you do, you make me happy.” Cas smiled and set a hand on Dean’s jaw, running a thumb along it. 

“Well, anyway, I had another question to ask you.” Cas shrugged a bit, soft smile playing on his lips. 

“Yeah, I’ll marry you.” Dean said. Cas scoffed, looking over his shoulder before whacking his arm. 

“Dean.” He rolled his eyes, still smiling. “No…I-I wanted to ask if-if you’d move in with me.” Though, Dean’s face fell. 

“Cas, I don’t know-” He started, drawing his hands away though Cas pulled them back. 

“Just hear me out.” Cas asked, taking a breath. “It’s a step forward. You know? It’s a progression…It’d be a new thing, and maybe a good thing, and who knows, maybe it could help you.”

“Yeah, Cas, I’m not really in a good place right now.” Dean tried pulling his hands away again, letting his gaze drop, but Cas was persistent. 

“Maybe you’d be in a good place after though. Maybe it could be the very thing to help you.” 

“But, your place is too small.” Dean shook his head, swallowing thickly. He let out a breath, looking Cas in the eye again. “Cas, baby, I can’t do that to you. I can’t let you live with me at the minute. I’d only depress you and you’re the only light in my life right now.” 

“I want to help you.”

“You’re helping me by just being here.” Dean wrapped his arms tight around Cas’s waist, hands lingering on the small of his back. “One day I wanna get a house with you with a nice lawn and a dog or somethin’…But, I can’t do that like this. I can’t do that to you.”

“Alright, it was just a thought.” Cas stopped him, carding a hand through the hair on the back of Dean’s head. “I’ll look forward to that.”

*

That night, Dean stayed for dinner at Bobby’s. Bobby didn’t have an awful lot to say these days, but Dean didn’t mind. He wasn’t that talkative himself anymore anyway. Though, for some reason, Bobby was particularly chatty that evening. “So,” He said, wiping his mouth before reaching for a drink. “I might have got myself a _‘date’_ this weekend.” Dean scoffed, thinking the older man was messing around. He wasn’t.

“Oh, you’re being serious.” Dean said, eyes widening. “Good for you, Bobby. Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Ellen Harvelle.” Bobby rolled his eyes before pointing a finger when he seen Dean hiding a smirk. “Hey, she’s a nice older woman who I happen to have a lot in common with.” 

“I’m not sayin’ that’s a bad thing, man, I’m actually pretty thrilled for you.” Dean put his hands up in defense, harboring a bit of a laugh. 

"She’s got a daughter.” 

“You tryin’ to set me up?”

“It might not be the worst thing in the world.” Bobby shrugged, making a bit of a wondering face. “It’d do you a bit of good to have more than two friends.” 

“I’m good, thanks.” Dean chuckled, gaze dropping.

“Right, because you’d be cheatin’ on Cas.” Dean looked up then. Bobby was serious. He was leaning on his arms on the table, giving him one of his famous looks. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Bobby, I keep tellin’ you-”

“Cut the crap, Dean, I know.” Bobby sat back finally, taking his cap of to run a hand over his hair. “I have known…I just didn’t want to believe it.” Dean stayed quiet, lips falling into a bit of a frown. 

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know.” Bobby’s eyes fell to the table. “I just…Dean, it’s the talk around town. Everyone’s talking about Singer’s messed up kid and his queer boyfriend…Is it my fault? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No, Christ Bobby, no.” Dean assured him. “I’ve always been this way…Hell, I like girls too…I don’t know. I gave up tryin’ to work it out a long time ago.” 

“Well, look, anyway…Whatever it is you want…Or who you want…It’s fine by me. Just be careful.” Dean nodded, a little in shock. 

“So…You don’t wanna kick me out?”

“Why in blazes would I wanna do that?” Bobby raised an eyebrow, picking up his drink again. "Aint kicked you out yet an' you've done a lot worse."

“I dunno, I hear that’s what they’re doing.” Dean shrugged before he turned the topic. “So, when’s your date?”

“Tomorrow.” Bobby said.

“Nervous?”

“Shut up.” Dean huffed a laugh, drumming his fingers on the table. “You an’ Cas got anything planned?”

“Huh? Um, no. Don’t think so.” Dean scratched his head. It was weird talking about it. But, his savior came in the form of a couple of coughs. He got up, excusing himself to go and take his inhaler. 

He trailed up the stairs to grab the one in his room, stopping at Sam’s old one on the way there. It was untouched. No one went in there anymore for obvious reasons. He pushed the door open, feeling the stillness bore into him. The silence was very unpleasant. Considering he could see Sam sitting on his bed right there under the window with a book and a plate full of snacks. He spared a laugh, hand tightening on the door handle. 

Nevertheless, he made himself go in, looking under the bed for that box of photos. They’d stay under his bed now – it wasn’t like Sam needed them anymore. “Night, Sammy.” He whispered, flicking the light out as he walked back out again. Just like that, he felt like he was seventeen again, and Sam was curled up in bed. _’Night, Dean.’_ He almost heard his reply. Dean shut the door before the lump in his throat got any bigger. He’d been doing so well. 

He grabbed the inhaler from his top drawer quickly, not wanting to stay very long because truth be told it didn’t feel much better. The box stayed under his arm as he headed downstairs again to grab his keys. “I’m gonna head home, Bobby, good luck on your-uh _‘date’_.” He nodded with a bit of a laugh. Bobby flipped him off. “Don’t knock ‘er up, Bobby.” Dean called on his way out the door, shutting it before Bobby could yell something in return. 

Things went back to normal in some ways. Though, others would never be the same. Which was unfortunate. He was glad to say that he and Bobby had resumed their normal roles. Maybe it was a coping mechanism. Neither of them knew – but it helped. 

When he was home, he threw his keys onto the table and flicked on the TV, falling onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Most nights he just passed out there anyway. _Gone with the Wind_ had more or less started so he’d settled on that. He didn’t like that movie all too well, but he and Sam would watch it on Christmas day when their dad was out on one of his usual benders. The tradition had continued every year, until the last one. 

As the movie went on, Dean found himself lost in thought about something else. Cas’s offer. Maybe he was right. What was to say they couldn’t make new traditions? What was to say they couldn’t be happy together? What was to say Dean could actually get better with something new to set his mind on? The only thing was – Cas’s place actually was too small. Dean’s place on the other hand…

He sat up and scrubbed his jaw, reaching for the phone and dialed Cas’s number a little reluctantly. Was this a good idea? He decided he didn’t care. If this worked, he’d be well on the way to getting over his brothers death. Not completely, of course, but better at least. That was good enough for now. 

“Hello?” Cas answered with a yawn a couple of rings later. 

“Cas, it’s me. Listen,” Dean started, running a hand over his hair. “I was thinking about what you said.”

“Yes?” Cas sounded a little cautious, but Dean went on anyway.

“I think you’re right.” He sighed. “I think you’re right. It could pull me out of this. I want to get better, Cas, I do…But every time I think about Sammy I-”

“Well, this could offer you that distraction.” Cas stopped him, hearing the shakiness in his voice. He knew Dean didn’t want to cry anymore. So, he was set on giving him a reason not too.

“Yeah…Yeah.” Dean sniffed a bit. “But, Cas, your place really is _too_ small.” 

“We could make do.” 

“How about you move in with me?” 

“Your place?” Cas questioned. “Are you sure?”

“Well, yeah, I’m askin’ you.” It was like he could hear Cas roll his eyes. “So, yes or no, Angel?” 

“…Alright. Okay. We’re really doing this?”

“We’re really doing this.” Dean chuckled a bit, letting his eyes settle back on the TV. “Hey, I’ll come by tomorrow and help you start packing.” 

“That sounds fine. I’ll see you then.” 

“Okay, baby.”

Just like that Dean had a new plan and it already felt better. Things were going to get better. He was determined they would. And as much as he hated people talking for Sam, he knew his little brother wouldn’t want him to wallow. He’d always hated to see him sad. That was the worst part in all this – but he was going to make it better. For Sammy. 

*

Cas was moved in by the following week. He didn’t particularly want to put his apartment up for sale, but he got over it when Dean reminded him about his college bills. 

As it turned out, Cas loved Dean’s apartment anyway. He loved how big it was. He loved that from the windows you could see the lights of the town. He loved Pam, and Pam thought he was great too. He loved that he didn't have to find space for his books or plants - it was just there for him. Everything was working out like he’d hoped. The apartment even started to look better for it. 

And during Cas’s first night there, and in Dean’s real only burst of happiness he’d had in the past six months, they made love for the first time. 

Cas’s joy wore off on him. He’d thought that bringing him here would only bring Cas down, when instead it made him shine. Dean loved him, and he finally got the chance to show him that. 

It wasn’t the wild sex that Dean had fantasies about, but it wasn’t boring either. It was just…Right. That was the only way he could explain it. It was right. Cas’s skin was soft and hot and it felt like it melted into his own when they were together. He could touch Cas wherever he wanted, and Cas would lay back and oblige. He could whisper sweet things into his ear, just to hear that shy laugh. 

Then there was nothing shy about Cas. He’d grab Dean’s hair and card his fingers through it desperately, and pull him closer like it was his last night on earth. He could bite and he could grasp and he could have Dean wrapped around his little finger with a single breath from his lips. 

It was right. 

They were wrapped up in the blankets, Cas laying across his stomach, Dean with a hand on his dark hair, just about ready to drift off. Cas had been mumbling for the past thirty minutes, but it was easy to tell he’d be out soon. “Cas?” Dean asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” Cas turned to face him, giving him the glare he’d fallen in love with, before a small smile tugged on the corners of his lips.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told.”


	10. Chapter 10

December 1973

By the time Christmas rolled around on the calendars again, things were by no stretch of the imagination fine, but they were better. _Much better._

Dean stuck to the promise of visiting his little brother every Sunday, just before the sun set over the hill. It was the most immaculately kept grave in the whole cemetery. Dean took pride in that. The way he’d taken pride in Sammy when he was alive. 

“Hey, little brother.” He’d say and crouch down, running a hand over the cool marble. “I miss you, buddy. I miss you every day…But, remember, this isn’t forever. I’ll see you again someday. I promise.”

It was like that speech he’d given him when he’d started high school. _”This is just one of those things, Sammy, it doesn’t last forever. And when you get out it’ll be chicks galore, a great job and a fancy car – just you wait. This won’t last forever.’_

That was the thing about death though, it _was_ forever. Whether there was an afterlife or not was questionable - but what happened to Sam happened to everyone. So the notion that they’d meet again some day…Well, it was comforting. 

Aside from that, the love and comfort he found from Cas was just irreplaceable. Castiel Novak was just this being that radiated affection and adoration from the moment he woke up in the morning to the second he fell asleep. Dean loved him. 

They decided to celebrate Christmas this year. Cas thought Dean could use a bit of joy in his life, and what better way to do that than get into the holiday spirit. 

When he brought the tree home, hauling it all the way into their apartment under his arm, Dean’s eyes met the ceiling. “Are you kidding me?”

“Does this tree that cost me thirty dollars look like a joke to you?” Cas puffed, shutting the door behind him with his foot. 

“You spent thirty dollars on that thing?” Dean looked at him sceptically. “You know how many plants you have around here…We could have just put lights on one of those.”

“Ferns aren’t Christmas trees.” 

“Who’s to say they aren’t?” 

“Everyone, Dean. Everyone.” Cas set the thing down by the window, smiling at in like it was a friend he hadn’t seen in a very long time. 

“Well, excuse me for my ignorance.” Dean watched him. “Now are you gonna make out with that thing or decorate it?”

“Thought I’d take it out for dinner first.”

“You’re such a bastard.” Dean shook his head. Cas chuckled, pinching his neck as he walked by to take his coat off and leave it in the closet. 

“You’re a bad influence.”

Dean was roped into helping decorate the tree anyway. Turned out Cas was all into Christmas and the paraphernalia that came with it. He’d brought a huge box of lights and bobbles and tinsel and a battered looking angel for the top with him from his move. Dean pretended like it was all a silly idea but deep down, he was actually pretty excited.

In the end the tree was something to behold. Yeah, it was a little bare here and there, but hey, it was thirty dollars and honestly Dean wasn’t complaining. It was his and Cas’s Christmas tree. He wished Sam could have seen it – he probably would have laughed. 

Dean pulled Cas into him by his soft jumper, twisting his fingers around the material at the small of his back. “You’re so hot when you’re covered in pine leaves and tree sap.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Cas said, brushing the pine needles off his teeshirt. Dean smirked, kissing him a couple of times before Cas grabbed him and deepened it, smile never leaving him. “This’ll be a good year.” 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

*

On Christmas eve they had a visit from Anna and baby Ella. Dean had met them both for the first time several months previous and they’d taken to each other very well. Especially Ella. She just couldn’t seem to get enough of Dean. And honestly, Dean couldn’t get enough of her either. 

He’d asked Cas on several occasions though if he had told his sister about them. Not that he minded – it was just, how was he supposed to act around her? It turned out that he hadn’t told her, but she suspected it. Just like everyone else they came in contact with. Either, she was too nice to say or she loved her brother too much. Dean wasn’t gonna argue with that. 

“Anna!” Cas said, opening the door just as it knocked, sweeping his sister into a hug. He kissed her cheek quickly, doing the same with Ella, who bounced in Anna’s arms excitedly. 

“Hey, Anna.” Dean said, getting up to give her a light hug as well, pinching Ella’s cheek a bit to make her smile. “Hey, Gorgeous, you miss me?” He chuckled when she clapped her hands. She couldn’t do much more than that. Anna laughed, bouncing her on her hip before stepping inside. 

“Thanks for inviting me over.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I couldn’t have you spend Christmas Eve on your own. You’re still going back for dinner with the rest of them tomorrow though, aren’t you? Because, you’re more than welcome here.” He asked, settling on the couch with her. 

After that, Dean was usually on baby duty. Anna set Ella down on the ground and she made a bee-line for Dean. It had just sort of become customary – plus it gave them a better chance to talk. 

“Yes. It’ll be nice to see Michael and Gabriel and our parents again.” She nodded, a small smile on her face. “Won’t you come with me?”

“No, we’re having dinner at Bobby’s.” Cas smiled over at him while Dean picked Ella up to go and let her see the tree. The lights were enough to occupy her for a while. If Anna didn’t know then, she’d never know. The love in Cas’s eyes couldn’t be confused for anything else.

Anna stayed for a long time, to the point where Ella had passed out in Dean’s arms when he settled down to watch the TV. When Cas and Anna started talking, there was no stopping them. But, soon she was standing up and straightening out her coat, throwing her arms around Cas’s shoulders again. 

“Merry Christmas, both of you.” She said, coming to lift Ella out of Dean’s arms. Dean was sorry to see her go – she’d been nice and warm.

“You too.” Dean smiled, getting up to leave her to the door with Cas before he remembered. “Right, hold on.” He went to the tree and lifted up the two of the little packages from under it. “Those are for you and Ella. From us.” He gestured between him and Cas with a smile. 

“You didn’t have to do that-”

“Aww c’mon, of course we did.” Dean laughed. “Take care of yourself, Anna. Happy Christmas.” He gave her a small wave, turning to let her and Cas hug it out before she left. 

“I love my sister – but she really has some set of lungs on her. I’ve never seen any one talk like it.” Cas sighed, coming to flop down on the couch next to him after he shut the door, finally. 

“I can think of someone.” 

“It must be a Novak thing.”

“Must be.” Dean chuckled, opening his arm for Cas to slide in, but he turned to set a hand on his waist. “Cas, if you wanna spend Christmas with your family, don’t let me stop you.” Cas shook his head, tugging Dean’s chin towards him. 

“You are my family. Better than that.” He kissed Dean then, one quick kiss to settle his words and prove their truth, but that wasn’t enough. Cas laughed when his back hit the cushions of the couch, rubbing his eyes tiredly when Dean hovered over him. “Are you ever gonna let me sleep?”

“Not as long as I’m living, no.” Dean said, lips meeting Cas’s neck. “Just can’t get enough of you.”

“Oh, Dean.” Cas sighed, though there was a hint of a laugh present. 

“Thought Anna would never leave.” He hummed, pushing a hand under Cas’s shirt, fingers trailing over the hot skin there. Cas turned his head to catch his lips on his, holding him there for a long while, grasping a handful of his hair in one hand and his jaw in the other. “Can’t get enough of you.” Dean repeated. 

As it happened, Cas was deprived of sleep that night as well. He couldn’t get enough of Dean either.

*

The next day they dressed up nice and went over to Bobby’s just in time for dinner. That was hard. It was hard going over to Bobby when he knew Sam wouldn’t be there. He’d almost backed out at the last minute, asking if Cas just wanted to order take out or something instead, but after some careful encouragement, Cas was able to convince him to go. 

He had been doing so well. He had to remind himself that. He was doing so well – He didn’t want to ruin it all for one day that means practically nothing in the scheme of things. Sam was happy when Dean was. Time to put on that smile and fake it – like he’d done so many times before; even when his brother was alive. 

They both received a bear hug at Bobby’s front door, which Dean was half glad for. Bobby was probably feeling it too. He rounded the corner while Cas and Bobby spoke, spotting Ellen at the stove, Jo at the table, giving them both a smile. It was still strange seeing them around Bobby’s house, but as long as his old man was happy, that was the main thing. 

“Hey, Dean. Cas.” Ellen said, turning with the dish cloth over her shoulder. “You boys take a seat. Dinner’ll be out soon.” 

“Thanks.” Dean said pulling his chair out. The one that used to be right next to Sam’s. The one Jo was sitting in. He dug into his pocket, taking his inhaler out for a couple of quick puffs. He didn’t need any mishaps. Not today. 

Cas sat in front of him, offering him a reassuring nod before going to speak to Jo. “How’re you, Jo?”

“I’m good, thanks for askin’.” She said, leaning back in the chair, on foot propped up on the seat. “Thought you guys were never gonna show.” She glanced at Dean. He couldn’t look at her. Not without seeing Sam’s eyes staring back. “Traffic bad or something?” 

“Yes, sort off. Suppose we left at a bad time.” Cas answered, even though she’d looked at Dean for an answer. 

“Get anything nice for Christmas?” She tried again, nudging his shoulder. Dean took a breath and looked at Cas.

“Cas got me a tee-shirt and a record.” He nodded, pursing his lips together again. Suddenly he wasn’t all that hungry anymore.

“Wait ‘til you see what Bobby got you.” He didn’t answer. “Aren’t you gonna ask what it is?”

“Nah.” Dean shook his head. Cas looked at him with round eyes. Dean could tell he was concerned. Jo scoffed unknowingly, shaking his shoulder again.

“Who are you and what have you done with Dean Winchester?” She giggled, looking at Cas who smiled to be polite. She didn’t know the half of it - She was just being herself. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She stretched to look at him. That was it. Dean just couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up with a nervous sort of laugh, masking what he really felt with a thick swallow. 

“Sorry, I gotta…I gotta run out for a second.” 

Sam was gone. Sam was gone forever. Jo Harvelle had taken his seat. Everyone seemed to be getting over it but him. Everyone seemed to think it was _fine_. It wasn’t fine. That’s where Sam sat.

Dean got outside just in time as his voice cracked and sent the tears falling from his eyes. He wiped them with the back of his jacket, glancing skyward as he made for the Impala. He knew Sam wouldn’t want him to be upset. He knew Sam would be the first person to tell him to stop and get over it. He had to get over it. But God, it was times like these when he never thought he would. 

He got in the car without a second thought and reversed out of the drive, shaking his head when Cas came to the door. He had to see his brother – and he had to do it alone. 

When he pulled up at the cemetery, the place was eerily empty. It was on the brink of getting dark and any sign of a car was long gone. He made the long walk up the hill, pulling his jacket around him, still having the wipe the occasional tear from his reddening cheeks. 

Until there it was. Sam’s grave, all alone at the top. That was enough to set Dean off again but he held it together. “Hi, Sammy.” His breath hitched as he stopped in front of the grave, shoving his hands in his pockets. “…Fuck. Why’d it have to be you?” He whispered, looking on the black marble, seeing nothing but his reflection in return. "Why you?"

“I’ve been asking myself that.” A deep voice came from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, knowing exactly who it was, but like the last time he’d seen him. He didn’t care. Dean shook his head, letting his eyes shut. “…It’s…It’s hard to believe.” John said. Dean stayed facing forward. Silence circled them like a kettle of vultures. “Dean.” He pressed, sounding a little perplexed. “Aren’t you going to acknowledge me?”

“I don’t see why I should.” Dean said finally, voice still shaky. 

“Because I’m your father.” John said. “If anyone gets this, it’s me-”

“Fuck, if you know anything about this.” Dean snapped turning to face him now. He shook his head, putting his hands up with a bitter laugh. “I can’t do this today. Not here.”

“I don’t want to fight with you either.” John answered, eyes dark. “My son just died. My other one doesn’t want anything to do with me – understand why that might hurt a little?”

“…Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean’s voice rose. “You’re…Fuck me, you’re such a stupid bastard.” He said under his breath now, wondering why he was wasting his time. He scrubbed his eyes, the edges stinging with the coldness of his fingertips before he tore them away. 

“What’d you just say to me?”

“You’re such a stupid bastard and I’m done with you. I don’t have anything tying me to you now…So, just go. Go back to Dodge and don’t show up here again. I don’t wanna know you anymore.”

“Dean, listen-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Dean barked, his voice bouncing off the headstones around them. “Just leave me the hell alone. Don’t try to be my dad now if you couldn’t be when I needed you.” He started walking but a strong hand caught his wrist and pulled him back. His heart stung with a flutter of beats but he composed himself and, thankfully, didn’t let it show. His pacemaker kicked into action after that. 

“Let me just tell you this, Dean.” John said, tightening his grip. Dean tried to yank his hand away but John had the upper hand. He always had the upper hand. “Sammy would never have died had you not told him to come back. Had you not told him to get on that bus.”

“ _You_ made him do that. Not me.” Dean protested, but John shook his head, wry smile on his lips. 

“You told him to come home.” 

“Don't pin this on me. It wasn’t my fault!” 

“No? Let me tell you something else.” John said, voice getting louder, grip getting tighter. A sound travelled up Dean’s throat when his chest squeezed in on his lungs. “Who was too weak to save him? You could have saved him, Dean. You could have saved him!” John yelled, pushing him back. “You and your heart or asthma or whatever the hell it is – you let it get in front of saving your little brother. You let your brother die-”

“Shut up-”

“You were supposed to take care of him!” John grabbed Dean’s shirt collar tight in his fist then. “That was all I ever asked…Keep Sammy safe. We’re standing on his grave, Dean.” He whispered painfully. “We’re standing on my boy’s grave.” 

Dean tried to keep himself from spluttering, tried to ignore the heat that spread over his lungs, but gave in when it became too much, wheezing with every breath. John shook his head, gritting his teeth together, before diving into Dean’s pocket to pull the inhaler out. “Know what this is?” He asked, squeezing the blue container between his fingers. “It’s an excuse. There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

From some fire inside him, Dean growled and shoved back, feeling powerful all for a second when his father staggered back, until his fist collided with Dean's jaw and sent him to the ground in a heap. John threw the inhaler at him, shaking his head shamefully. “Don’t you ever forget this, Dean. Don’t you ever.” John’s voice trembled. “That got in the way of saving your brother.” He pointed at the inhaler. “This-this bullshit notion that you need it – it’s not real. There’s nothing wrong with you. Guess it’s too fucking late to tell you that now, though, right? Maybe you’ll learn someday.” 

It took Dean a full ten minutes to regain his breath after John left. He sat where he’d been left, feeling a surge of shame and guilt and just about every other terrible emotion there was. He’d never get the better of John. He’d never be strong enough to fight him back. John was always much smarter than he was. Much more skilled. Much more of a man. Dean wasn’t anything but a person. And not even a properly functioning person. 

He picked up the inhaler with one hand, staring at it for a long time. It was pathetic, John was right. He was pathetic. More than that, he was a failure. What kind of a man let’s their little brother die? What kind of a man puts his own needs in front of the one’s he loves? Why couldn’t he have just been strong and helped his brother? 

The answer was that he was weak. He’d always been weak. Why had he thought that things would ever get better – they never would. Especially not now. Sam was just about the only thing that made him strong. The only one to give him a sense of purpose on this earth. He was gone. It’d been more than a year – and he was gone. 

That time Dean thought he had died – turned out he actually had. 

While his body still worked and his heart still pumped blood, he was dead. Sometimes he felt like he was alive – but that could easily be mistaken for an illusion. 

It was while sitting on the grass in front of Sammy’s grave that he realized this. He’d be dead until the day he died.


	11. Chapter 11

May 1974

Cas hadn’t noticed the change right away. 

Dean was just quieter at first. Those smirks he’d fire in Cas’s direction, the one’s that spoke a thousand words, were a rare sight. 

The days they went out together became less and less. 

Cas took him back to the aquarium one day, bringing him back to that little glass inlet, but Dean was hardly interested in looking at anything other than the fish. And even at that, he wasn’t really looking at them. 

He stared through the glass not really seeing. The same way he did with Cas. 

Then came the days that he’d stopped going to work. When asked why the only answer he’d give in reply was: “Not really feeling well.” Which could have meant a lot of things, in Cas’s opinion. 

Pam couldn’t even tease a smile out of him either. He’d just stay on the couch in that worn out hoodie of his, hands stuck in his pockets, eyes glued to the TV. 

“Dean,” Cas said, running a careful hand over Dean’s hair, letting it brush over his forehead to check for signs of a fever. He was warm, but not that warm. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just not feeling so good.”

“You’ve been saying that for three months.” Cas’s brow creased. “Talk to me…You-I was sure you were getting better.”

“I’m better.” Dean said, eyes still stuck on the TV. “Just not feeling well.”

“You want me to make you a Doctor’s appointment?”

“No.”

“Then how’re you gonna get better?” Dean shrugged. That was the end of the conversation. 

If Dean wouldn’t go to the Doctor, then Cas would. He couldn’t watch Dean waste away any longer. He knew this was about Sam – what else could it be? It wasn’t like Dean to let any old illness bring him down like this. 

“Cas?” Dean called from the living room. Cas peered around the corner from the kitchen with a bit of a smile before he seen the note in his hand. “What the hell is this?”

“Um, well,” Cas came out, lacing his hands together. “I spoke to Doctor Brown about you.” He swallowed, watching Dean cautiously. “…Dean, Professor Barley’s supposed to be the best therapist in Kansas-”

“I don’t need a god damn therapist, Cas.” 

“I think you do.” Cas approached him, sitting down next to him on the couch. “Baby, I think you do. You’re right – you’re not well. Not one bit. I think you should at least give him a call-”

“No.” Dean cut him off, crumpling the note in his hands. “No, I’m not gonna talk to some bullshit shrink about my problems. There’s no fucking point.” 

“Of course there’s a point – Dean, of course there is!” Cas begged him, taking Dean’s hand with both of his. “I want you back. I want you to try – you were doing so well.” Dean ignored him. “…Do you think Sam would want this?” That was a mistake. Cas knew it was the moment it had passed his lips. Dean turned to look at him, pulling his hand away. 

“I don’t know.” He said bitterly. “Wanna know why I don’t know, Cas?”

“Dean-”

“No, why don’t I know what my brother would want?” He growled.

“Because he’s dead.”

“Because he’d dead.” Dean stood up and left the room, slamming their bedroom door shut behind him. Cas was running out of options.

*

The next week Cas had gone out with Anna and Ella to grab some groceries. He was sure Dean would want to be there for that. Come and see Ella, cheer him up a bit. Cas was mistaken. 

“Are you a little under the weather, Castiel?” Anna asked, peering around Ella while she set her in the trolley. “You’re pale.”

“No, I – well, maybe a little.” He nodded, not wanting to go into full details. He wasn’t sure if she’d understand. 

“Where’s Dean? Ella was looking forward to seeing you both.” Anna said, pushing her daughter’s blonde curls out of her eyes. Cas just gave her a look. While she didn’t know the full extent, she knew Dean was a changed person. “Maybe some other time.”

“Yeah.” Cas nodded, smiling for Ella when she laughed at him, before his took his glasses off and put them in his top pocket. “No, he’s…He’s not doing well at all, Anna.” He gave in. Maybe talking about it to someone other than Bobby wouldn't be a bad idea.

They walked into the grocery store getting hit with a cold blast of air. Anna glanced at him, pulling a pacifier out of her pocket to give to Ella who squealed in delight. “His brother?”

“Well yes but…I don’t understand…It’s been almost two years.” Cas shook his head. “I know that no amount of time could heal that wound but…He was doing so well. So well. I can’t understand it.” 

“Maybe he’ll get better again.”

“He won’t allow himself the chance.” Cas sighed. “He’s given up.” 

Anna stopped the trolley right in the aisle, turning to look at her little brother with some regret, but she took a breath. “Please, don’t think me heartless.” She said quietly. “Please don’t…But this is destroying you.” 

“Anna-”

“No, listen to me. I’m your sister. I know what’s best for you and…Being cooped up with-with that grenade it’s going to…Well, it’s going to do you damage.” 

“If you’re suggesting that I leave him-” He said outright, whether she knew about them or not, he didn’t know, but she did now. 

“Yes. Yes, I’m suggesting that.” Anna looked at him a little desperately. “You said it yourself; he’s not even trying anymore. You want to help him – save him, whatever it is - but he doesn’t want to be helped…Where does that leave you?”

“I can’t leave him, Anna. I don’t care what it does to me; I’m not going to leave him.” 

“I’m just saying, Castiel. You’re going to come home some day and he’s not gonna be there or worse.”

“This was a bad idea.” Cas shook his head, not wanting to hear anymore. 

“If anyone knows about this, Castiel, it’s me.” Anna’s voice rose, becoming a little shaky. “If anyone knows what it’s like to suffer for the one you love only to have them leave – it’s me!”

“No ones going anywhere, Anna!” Cas retaliated, heart pumping with fear. He didn’t want to believe what she was saying, but she was right. He didn’t know what the outcome in all this would be. All he knew was that he couldn’t leave Dean. _He couldn’t._ “…I’m going to go.” He rubbed his forehead, looking away from her. “I’ll-I’ll see you later. Bye, Ella.” He bent down to kiss her head before he took off. 

He didn’t need to hear what he already knew. 

When he arrived home it was as though his fears had become real. Dean wasn’t in his usual spot. His breath came up short until he heard the sound of a bottle rolling along the floor in the kitchen. 

He went towards the sound, turning the corner cautiously, only to have his eyes almost fall out of his head when he saw Dean lying propped against the cupboard, cigarette in his mouth, bottle of bourbon in the other. 

“Dean, what are you doing?” Cas could only manage a whisper for the shock he was in. Dean turned to look at him, eyes taking a second before they focused on his. He scoffed, head lolling back, cracking against the door of the cabinet. 

Cas went to him, going to pull the cigarette out of his mouth. Dean pushed him away with a grunt, sucking in the smoke before his chest erupted with a series of unstoppable coughs.

“You’re killing youself!” Cas shouted now. “Stop it!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, baby, c’mere-” Dean gestured him forward, sounding rough and scratchy. “C’mere…You’re hot as hell…” Cas almost gave in. He almost set himself on Dean’s lap and wrapped his arms around his neck and loved him like he used too. 

“You’re drunk.” 

“Get drunk with me.” He kept his arms out. “We can forget all about everything. Just you an’ me.”

“Why are you doing this?” Cas breathed, lip trembling. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” The smile was back. The confident air. The _‘come and get me’_ gestures in his hands. It was just like Dean – expect this wasn’t him. 

“I want to.” He took another pull of the cigarette, lungs protesting in a bout of splutters. “…And now I’m happy. I’m happy – isn’t that what you wanted? You can feel better about yourself.” He looked at Cas, cigarette rolling along his bottom lip, it was enough to break Cas’s heart. 

He fell down next to Dean, taking his arms, clutching his shirt sleeves, running a hand over his cheeks – like he was searching for his old Dean. The real Dean. He was long gone. That was clear. “This makes me feel worse.” 

“Well, time to toughen up, Angel, ‘cause I feel great.” 

“You don’t, Dean, you couldn’t.” Cas’s eyes stung with tears, a wince escaped his lips when he finally let go of them. 

“What’re you cryin’ for?” Dean snapped, pushing his hands away from his face. “You’ve got nothing to cry about.” 

“You. You’re making me cry.” Cas wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. “I don’t want to see you hurt yourself like this.” 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me!” Cas exclaimed shakily. “It matters to me, Dean! You’re going to kill yourself.” 

“Gimme a break.” Dean breathed, eyes falling heavily away from Cas’s. “You wanted me to get better – this is better.” 

“It’s not-”

“It fucking is!” Dean yelled, throwing the almost empty bottle at the wall behind them. Cas flinched, eyes darting away from Dean’s. “It’s always been better this way!” He got unsteadily to his feet, holding the counter to regain his balance again before he started moving to the brown bag on top of the fridge. “I don’t know why I ever stopped.” 

“Because you’re smart.” Cas shook his head. “Because you know that’s not the answer.”

“Well, I think it is.” Dean pulled a fresh bottle out, turning a little too fast, having to catch himself on the fridge door. He laughed. “It’s the only thing that’s helped so far. It’s the only thing that ever helped.”

“What happened to you, Dean. What happened to you-” 

“Guess it’ll mess you up a bit when your Dad uses you as a punching bag.” He chuckled darkly, unscrewing the cap. 

“Oh, Dean.” Cas got to his feet, careful to avoid the broken glass, as he made his way over. “Why? Why you?” He shook his head, not wanting to believe it. Not his Dean with a heart of gold. Not his Dean that’d take a bullet for anyone he loved. Not his Dean. 

“Isn’t it obvious – you said it yourself?” Dean swayed, looking at Cas with sceptical eyes. “I look like her.” 

*

After that, finding Dean in that state became a typical occurrence. Sometimes it was worse than others. Sometimes he’d pass out and not wake up for hours. Sometimes he’d throw things and shout and scream and cry. Sometimes he wouldn’t speak. Sometimes Cas’d give into his whims and let him do as he pleased for an hour or two until he passed out. Cas was desperate. He missed his Dean. 

More than that he was stuck in this vicious circle because he couldn’t leave him. Wouldn’t leave him. He was frozen in the notion that Dean’d get better. He hadn’t yet.

Then there was Sam’s birthday. Cas knew to expect disaster – but he hadn’t expected silence. Silence in that Dean took himself out in the morning and didn’t come home for three days. When he did, he was like a white sheet. His eyes were red rimmed and dark underneath. Cas didn’t want to believe it – but it was right there. He didn't care where he'd been anymore.  
“What’ve you done?” He whispered. Dean didn’t answer. 

He’d called Bobby over for about the thousandth time. Prayed there was something older man could say or do to snap him out of it. Dean wasn’t listening anymore. Bobby tried just about everything - until the words ‘mental institution’ was on the cards. 

When he was drunk enough, Cas got the real truth. The real truth about John Winchester and what he’d said at the grave that day. The real truth about what he’d done to Dean over the years. Why he had asthma in the first place – and it was all because he resembled his mother. 

_“’You’re trying to be her.’” He’d keep saying it. It wasn’t my fault – I wished I didn’t. I wished I’d looked like someone else. Anyone else – but it had to be her. It had to be her. He hated me for trying to be her when I wasn’t fit to tie her shoes.”_

Three days later Cas came home to find Dean on the living room floor, passed out. It wasn’t a shock anymore. He set the bags down and went to try to shake him awake. Nothing. That wasn’t surprising either. 

What was surprising was the inhaler in one hand – and almost empty bottle of sleeping pills in the other.

“Christ! Dean!” Cas screamed then, hysterical. He turned him over, eyes widening at the blood dripping out of his mouth. “Oh my god, Dean…Dean!” He cried, shaking him as hard as he could. No response. Not even a breath. 

*

Cas sat in the hall, eyes focused on the ground in front of him, arms crossed, Dean’s inhaler in one hand in case he needed it when he woke up. He wasn't sure how he'd got here - the sequences had all been a blur. 

Bobby was there too. Head in his hands, muttering about how they should have done something sooner. How all the signs were leading up to this. 

Cas had nothing to say. 

The Doctor finally rounded the corner. A Doctor Cas had never seen before. He didn’t stand when he approached. “Bobby Singer?” He stood in front of Bobby. Cas stayed still. 

“Yeah?” Bobby sat up with a puff, taking his hat off to run a hand over his head. 

“We’ve pumped his stomach, put him on a drip, given him oxygen, um-” The Doctor flicked through her notes. “I’m not sure what else to tell you, Mr Singer.” She said, frown on her features. “All we can do now is wait and see if he fights himself out of this coma.” The Doctor shook her head when Bobby lowered his. “There was a significant amount of damage done to his lungs too – there’s evidence there of drug abuse.” 

“He didn’t take any drugs.” Cas shook his head. But really, Cas didn’t know. Dean very well could have. Still he found the need to shield him. His heart was beating so fast he could barely hear himself think - but at the same token, he knew what was going to happen. He knew he wouldn't like what he was going to hear. 

“Test results say otherwise.” She said. “There is a seventy percent chance that he won’t come out of this.” Her voice became soft as she looked between them. "I hate to be the barer of this news but...At this rate, lasting the night would be an achievement." 

There it was. The punch line. Cas's mouth gaped open. Bobby’s back rumbled with a sob. The Doctor gave her apologies and left them alone in the quiet hall. 

It was strange. A place that brought life into the world could also said goodbye to others. 

Dean wasn't dead yet, no, but he was as good as. Cas gave into the tears finally, letting them streak down his cheeks. Bobby was distraught. At one point he got up and didn't come back again. Cas didn't speak. 

The place he found the love of his life was also the place he'd loose him. What a funny and cruel world this was.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided that this will be the last chapter. I didn't think there was any need to drag it on any longer because this was just the perfect place to finish it. Thank you so much for all the wonderful and amazing support I received, I didn't think it'd do anywhere near this well - so thank you for keeping me motivated right until the very end and all your lovely comments! Enjoy this very last chapter of After You're Gone! <3

Much to everyone’s surprise, Dean did last the night. And the next night after that. It was a miracle – or so the nurses kept saying. Cas wasn’t so sure if this could be classified as a miracle or not. Dean was still unconscious. 

When they finally let Cas in to see him, he knew it’d be one of those moments he’d never forget. 

He padded into the room, the whirring sound of the oxygen tank as it clicked with every breath. The heart monitor bleeping in the corner. Sounds he’d take to the grave with him. 

Then, of course, there was Dean. Cas laid a hand on his cheek, brushing his thumb over his freckles. He thought then how Dean would often call him Angel, when in fact Cas was positive that Dean was a God among men. He was perfect. 

The days were slow, ultimately they were waiting. Cas understood that now – all those facts and figures were bullshit. Dean had overdosed by accident – and tried to save himself with his inhaler. It was tragic. It was an accident. Cas just couldn’t get his head around it. 

He’d seen himself growing old with Dean. He’d seen them on the porch of a new house with a dog. He saw happiness for them. And then Sam died. Somehow Cas knew it’d never work out after that. He knew Dean would never really be over it – but not to this extent. Though, they had John to blame for that. 

Dean never got a chance. He never got a chance to live. Even when he was alive.

Most days, Cas would talk to him. Just talk. About everything. Doctors had told him Dean could still hear – that was proved when Cas asked him to squeeze his hand some days later and he did. It was another one of those miracles. But that happened once and failed to happen again.

He’d talk about the nice day that it was outside. He’d talk about how they used to walk on days like that. Go to the park. 

He told him about the time they’d gone for dinner and how there wasn’t an eye in the room that wasn’t on him – and not because of the coughing. And their first kiss in the alley way. All those things that seemed so little at the time where all Cas had left now. 

He told him about all the things he wished they’d done. He wished they’d gone away together. He wished they’d spent their lives together. He wished Dean would be his forever. Dean never had the chance. 

Dean didn't get that many visitors either. Anna and Ella stopped by one day. They had to explain that Dean was just sleeping - which wasn't a total lie. Ella wasn't happy with that fact but she wasn't the only one.

Pam visited one day, leaving her stick by the bed as she reached over to take Dean’s hand. Cas smiled and helped her halfway. “Heya, Freckle-Face.” She smiled, holding Dean's hand tight. “God, I miss ya.” Any sign of a laugh or a smile faded then. Cas felt the sadness hit him like a bullet. “How’s Bobby?” She swallowed, reaching for Cas’s hand again when he led her to the chair. 

“He’s…Managing.”

“And you?”

“Not managing.” He said honestly, biting his lip a bit. “Who knows though? Maybe he’ll spring up again someday.” Pam just shook her head. Cas let out a breath, rubbing his forehead. 

“How long’s he been here?” 

“About five days?” Cas nodded. “I don’t know…Kind of lost track after the first couple of days.” 

“Why don’t you go home – get yourself rested for a while. I can take care of him for a few hours.” 

“Oh, Pam…” Cas said, running a hand over his hair. He didn’t want to do that. What if something happened while he was gone. 

“I can’t see and even I know you look like hell.” She huffed a laugh. “Go on. You need a break too.” 

“…Maybe a couple of hours would be okay? I could do with a shower.” 

“I’ll let you know if he starts doin’ somersaults.” Cas laughed sadly, bending down to kiss Dean’s cheek, moving the wires aside to get better access. 

“I’ll be back soon. Just you...hold on for a while.” He whispered, not sure if Dean was all that conscious or not right now. He smiled at Pam, even though she couldn’t see and said goodbye. 

*

The apartment was as eerily quiet as he’d expected it to be. It always was when he returned home at night but then he could pass out on the bed and attempt to sleep next to a pillow he often mistook for Dean. 

But coming home this early seemed so much worse. Dean’s blood was still on the floor even though Cas had scrubbed it ‘till his fingers bled one night. Dean’s smell still lingered around. He tried to ignore it and made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping into the shower in the hopes it’d relieve some of the agony. Quite the opposite. 

As he was standing there letting the water run over him – it hit him. Dean wouldn’t be back here. He’d never be back here. That smell would fade. That presence would disappear. Cas would come home and never see that smiling face again. 

He broke down after that. 

Really broke down.

The kind where his legs gave in and he couldn’t catch a breath for crying so hard. The kind where his bones ached and his eyes stung when the tears wouldn’t come anymore. He sat in the shower tray, water still raining down on him, and pulled his knees up to his chest. “Why you, why you, why you?” He asked repeated, gasping for a breath. “My Dean, my Dean…You never had a chance.” 

*

When he finally got back to the hospital Pam was gone and Bobby had taken his place. He smiled in Cas’s direction, taking his cap off to scratch his head lightly. “Hey, kid.”

“Hello.” Cas said, going to sit on Dean’s other side, looking him over. Everything looked the same. Except Bobby looked like he was going to jump of his seat with the nerves making his leg bounce.

“Cas…You should have known from the start. You should have known what you were getting into.” Bobby started, setting his cap back on his head. “You should have known that Dean was sick. You should have known where he’d come from. You should have known exactly what Sam meant to him…It’s a lot for someone to take on.”

“I’d take it on all over again, Bobby, if it meant having him back-”

“No, no, y'see, Dean’s the type of guy to motor on. He thinks he’s fine. He thinks he’ll get over it – no point in worryin’. He’s always been that way…When Sam died, y’know, I was certain that was it. I was certain Dean’d off himself in a week. But he didn’t.” Bobby swallowed thickly, glancing at Dean for a second. “Cas, you gotta know what that kid meant to him. Sam was his whole world – he raised him. Sam took his first steps towards Dean.”

“But Bobby, he was getting better. You know he was!” Cas shook his head. Sam wasn't the reason this had happened.

“Yeah, and then his daddy got to him.” 

“Where is he anyway?”

“I don’t know, Cas, and frankly, I don’t want to.” Bobby mumbled, looking at Cas now. “Dean ever tell you what he said?” Cas shook his head. That was a lie, of course. He knew what John had said. But why make this any worse than it was? 

“No, he never said.” Cas said weakly. “But it was bad enough to drive him to do this.” 

“Son of a bitch.” Bobby’s voice was hardly audible. “Anyway, what i'm tryin' to say is...After the life Dean had, it’s a miracle he made it this far. Guess we should be happy-” Bobby said before a sob caught him unawares. He rubbed his nose and sat back, palming him eyes.  
“I’m not happy.”

“I know.” Bobby forced out. “I’ve lost one boy and I’m loosing another.” A frustrated nose ripped out of him then.

“Go home, Bobby.” Cas hushed. Bobby took his advice and reached over to squeeze Dean’s shoulder before he headed out the door. 

When the room was quiet again, Cas took Dean’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Dean?” He asked. No response. Not even a squeeze. Cas looked at the heart monitor. Everything was still going at least. “I don’t know if you’re listening, Dean. I don’t know if you’re in there anymore but…I love you. I loved you from the moment I saw you. If you could roll your eyes at me now I know you would-” a tear slipped out of his eye. “But, whatever it is you’re holding onto…It’s not life. This isn’t life. Remember what I told you about the fish? I told you that a tank could never compare to the ocean. When Sam died I told you that the earth would never compare to heaven. Dean, to me, no one will ever compare to you. No one will ever take your place in my heart…I’m sorry this happen. And I’m angry at you for being so foolish, I can’t deny it…But I know you didn’t mean it. I know you were smarter than that – and you were sad and God knows what terrible things we do when we’re sad. But if it’s time for you to go, my love, _my Dean_ …” He swallowed, clutching Dean’s hand as tight as he could. “Then you should go.” 

Cas was answered with the continuous beeps of the monitor. He smiled, wiping he’s tears away. “Always so stubborn.”

Before he left that night, he'd stopped by the set of elevators they'd met at all that time ago. He could see Dean standing there, smirk on his face, eyes bright. Though it was so meaningless in the grand scheme of things, Cas could almost see that day as though it was happening right there in front of him. 

_“E-excuse me, could you tell me where the maternity ward is?” Dean chuckled, putting a foot between the elevator doors so they wouldn’t shut._

_“Yeah man, down there to the left. Keep going for a while, it’s like Ward E or something.”_

_“Thank you!”_

Cas shook his head, shaky smile on his lips. What a way to meet someone you'd never stop loving.

After that, though, things did start to go down hill. Dean stopped responding to whatever it was they were giving him - Cas was forever finished with medical terminology. 

His heart rate had slowed tremendously - not to mention his breathing. 

Two days later, in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, Cas got the phone call. He knew the second the phone rang who it was and what they'd say. Of course, his presumptions were correct. In the end, his heart had failed. 

Dean Winchester was dead. 

Cas turned back over onto the pillow he was so sure was Dean. He knew it was coming and still it wasn't any less shocking. 

He tried to remind himself that this was on the cards. Dean was never supposed to live past one night. But, he couldn't settle himself. Dean was dead. He was dead and he'd never come back. Finally he understood how Dean had felt. It wasn't much wonder he turned to drink in the end - Cas could honestly say he'd never felt worse in his entire life. 

In his state he staggered out of his apartment and knocked on Pam's door, falling into her arms when she finally opened it. "He's gone." Cas cried. "He's gone." 

Pam was good enough to stay the night - Lord knew, she needed the company as much as Cas did. 

*

Dean’s funeral was by no means grand but it was enough. He was buried with his brother – Cas was sure that’s what he’d want. 

He managed to stay strong the entire time, holding onto Pam's hand. She nudged his shoulder, giving him a bit of a smile before she spoke under her breath. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

"You could say that." Cas answered lowly, throat sore. 

"Hey, Winchester, just 'cause you're a ghost now or whatever, still don't mean you can perv in on my shower time!" Cas chuckled, putting an arm around her shoulder, resting his head on top of hers. He had to hand her a tissue after that. 

John Winchester made an appearance too. Bobby was absolutely affronted but Cas held his arm. “Not today.” He said lowly. Bobby calmed down. 

Room was made on the headstone for Dean’s epitaph, which read:

_Dean Winchester_  
 _1947 – 1974_  
 _Better at last._

And that was it.

Honestly, that's all that was needed. 

The words, while not understood by everyone, stood out to those that mattered most. Cas shut his eyes. At least there would be no more asthma. No more pacemaker. No more pain. No more grief. Dean _was_ better at last. 

“He’s finally happy.” Bobby said when everyone turned to walk down the hill, the service finally over. Pam took Bobby's arm, holding her stick out with one hand. 

“He was always happy.” Cas lingered, looking down on the grave for a second. Bobby gave his back a pat and followed the rest of them, leaving him alone. He glanced up at the blue sky for a moment thinking about the day they'd met. How strange it all seemed now. How strange it was that he'd run into the love of his life at the doors of an elevator. Now he was standing by his grave. 

Out of his pocket he pulled the little blue inhaler, resting it against the headstone. “Just in case.” He whispered, smile twitching onto his lips. "My Ocean. My Heaven...My Dean."


End file.
